


While There’s Still Something Left to Save

by pastelgod



Category: Castlevania (Cartoon), 悪魔城ドラキュラ | Castlevania Series
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Bathing, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Imprisonment, M/M, Permanent Injury, Post S2, Psychological Torture, Suicidal Thoughts, Temporary Character Death, Torture, Transformation, Vampire Sex, Vampire Trevor Belmont, Vampire Turning, Whump, polyamory if you squint
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2019-09-25 04:12:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 16
Words: 39,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17114237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pastelgod/pseuds/pastelgod
Summary: Trevor stared back, slack jawed. The cogs in his mind turned slowly, not wanting, not able, to accept the conclusion he must draw.Trevor gritted his teeth. “What did you do?”Adrian's eyes once again fell to the floor. “Something entirely selfish,” he whispered.After suffering another life threatening injury, Adrian is surprised by Trevor in what should have been the empty castle. After unconsciously attacking his friend, he does the only thing he can think to do to not be alone again.Trevor struggles with his new reality, and Dracula’s generals circle ever closer...





	1. New Life

Adrian didn't know how he had been caught so badly off guard. His hands fluttered against his chest and came away red.

 _Shit_ , this was bad. _Shit. Shit. Shit._

He pressed his ruined shirt against the wound and staggered to his feet. He had been stabbed, just below the heart. The stab itself wouldn't be fatal, but his old wound had reopened- vertical, down his chest- and he was losing blood _fast_.

The castle. He needed to get back to the castle. There were coffins there where he could once again heal.

Adrian normally kept his father’s influence in tight check, but right now he was in pain, he was _dying_ and he was alone. This was life or death, consequences be damned.

He let his instincts take over and guide him home.

_The castle. The castle._

He half stumble- half crawled through the underbrush. Each trip sent a jolt of pain through his entire body, further clouding his mind to anything but his destination.

By the time his hands touched oak doors, he was gone.

 

* * *

 

Trevor pulled open the ornate castle doors to welcome his friend back home. He had arrived on an unannounced visit to pass on new intelligence on the movements of Dracula’s former generals and had been surprised to find the castle empty. 

He had barely opened the door an inch before it was forced into him, sending him flying backwards and to the ground. The impact knocked the wind out of him, stunning and disorienting him.

He looked up at the silhouette of his friend, framed by the doorway. He barely had time to process Adrian’s wounds, his blood drenched frame, before he was upon him. He cried out as his teeth tore into his neck. 

Trevor didn't fight back: first from shock, and then from understanding- his friend was in bad shape. Adrian had fed on him once before on the ascent to Dracula’s castle, though that had been from the wrist and after much negotiation. This was intimate though, kind of nice. Adrian's fingers were in his hair and Trevor rested his hands, formerly raised in surprise, on Adrian’s shoulders.

By the time he realized something was _wrong_ , that Adrian wasn't _stopping_ , it was too late. He tried to push the damphir off of him, tried to unclasp Vampire Killer from his belt, but the strength had left his arms.

Blackness crept into the corners of his vision.

“Ah.. Adrian.. stop! _Adrian_!” He croaked.

Trevor continued to push ineffectually against his friends chest until his vision faded to black.

 

* * *

 

Adrian’s world was crimson. 

His hair was red and clung to his face. Red hair, red hands, red flagstones and a red form, hunched, still, among them.

His wound was healed, the pain was gone, and his mind once again clear.

The events of the last few minutes flashed before him suddenly. 

“No…!” He gasped softly.

Adrian rolled Trevor over. Hovered his ear over his mouth and chest. 

His mind ran through all the possibilities. Sypha! - no, she would have stopped him if she was here. Healing magicks- no, there was no one to wield them. His mother’s medicines- no, there was no time for such things. Trevor was limp and cold. There was only one option left to him.

“Forgive me, Trevor”

Adrian's teeth met his wrist and his wrist met Trevor’s lax mouth.

 

* * *

 

Trevor’s head was killing him.

He kept his eyes shut tight as he returned to himself. His whole body hurt, throbbed. He tried to stretch his arms to relieve the ache, but only his elbows moved. Weird. He tried again, pulling against the resistance. 

His arms were bound. His eyes snapped open with the realization, his grogginess leaving him in an instant, replaced with a rush of adrenaline.

He shut his eyes again and groaned. The room- wherever he was- was excruciatingly bright. He took stock as best he could. He was lying down. The surface was soft, presumably a bed. His hands were bound at the wrist with thick cuffs, resting on the mattress near his head. He kicked his legs. They were bound too. He wiggled a little. He was wearing his cloth pants and boots but his shirt and tunic were missing.

Where was he? What was going on?

He heard a shuffle of feet. He turned towards the sound and just barely squinted his eyes open.

“Wha… who?”

“It's me Trevor” Adrien shuffled nervously. He grasped his forearm and kept his eyes to the ground. 

“Adrian? Where are we? Unite me! Why is it so fucking bright?” Trevor strained against his restraints.

“We’re in the castle, Trevor, one of the bedrooms. I can’t untie you, not yet, and there's only one candle burning in here."

“Bullshit! What's going on?”

“How much do you remember of this morning?”

Trevor pressed back into the mattress. What did he remember? He remembered parting ways with Sypha, he remembered traveling to the castle alone, he remembered Adrien’s embrace.

Trevor gasped. “Fucker! You bit me!”

Adrian shuffled again. “Anything else?”

He grumbled and shifted on the mattress. “No, nothing. Now tell me what's going on!” He was hungry. How long had he been tied up here? Why was Adrian being so evasive? 

“There was an accident.” Adrian forced himself to meet the other man’s eyes. “I was ambushed. Badly wounded. Nearly killed. I came back here, meaning to heal in a coffin but I found you instead- I- I wasn't in control. I took too much. I did the only thing I could think to do.” His face was calm as ever but his voice waivered. “I'm sorry Trevor.”

Trevor stared back, slack jawed. The cogs in his mind turned slowly, not wanting, not _able,_ to accept the conclusion he must draw.

Trevor gritted his teeth. “What did you do?”

Adrian's eyes once again fell to the floor. “Something entirely selfish,” he whispered.

Trevor took a deep breath, steadying himself, and ran his tongue along his teeth for the first time since waking up. His tongue caught on a sharp point. His confusion was replaced with outrage.

““You should have let me die!” He growled. He thrashed against his restraints. Adrian said nothing, just slouched in the chair he had pulled to the corner of the room.

Adrian rested his head in his hands. “I didn't know what would happen,” he said softly, “I'm not really a vampire. There was a chance my blood would only heal you. It's not like I've done this before.”

Trevor let out a mirthless laugh. Sinking back into the bed. He stared up at the ceiling. His eyes had adjusted now, somewhat, but the room still seemed unbelievably bright to him. He should have known.

“You still haven't told me why you tied me up” 

“I believed you may have tried to kill me” His face held a deeply sad smile.

 “You would have deserved it.”

“I know.”

 

* * *

 

That was only half the truth. True, Adrian knew his… perhaps _former_ friend all to well- knew he would lash out in anger when he figured out what he had done, and Adrian was still very weak. Trevor’s blood was barely enough to heal his wounds, and he had given almost all of it back.

The other truth was that there were still things Adrian needed to tell him- and needed him to really listen. There were secrets of vampire lineage not even the Belmont's knew. 

For now, he gave Trevor some space. He kept him bound to the bed for both of their safeties. He wouldn't put it past the hunter to try to finish what he had started.

Far from Trevor’s room, he sobbed openly. He resolved that he wouldn't cry in front of the man, but right now he felt half of his twenty years.  He longed desperately for his parents, his mother’s wisdom and his father’s knowledge. Besides them, Trevor and Sypha were the only two people he had ever really known, and he had gone and killed one of them with his recklessness. If he hadn't been denying himself, trying to distance himself from his father’s nature, this wouldn't have happened. He had been punishing himself but now he was truly being punished.

He wiped his face with a cool rag and calmed himself as best as he could before returning to Trevor's room.

He knocked politely on the door before entering.

“Why bother knocking on a prison cell?” The man on the bed sneered. He was turned as far away from the door as possible.

Adrian sighed. “You're not a prisoner. In fact, I'm going to unbind you as soon as you listen to a few more things I have to tell you.”

Trevor grumbled but turned to face the other man. Adrian began, guilt and anxiety churning in his stomach. “I do not know much about turning. What I do know is from bits and pieces of information from my father, and I do not know what will hold true for you since I am not a full vampire. But, generally speaking…” he paused and took a deep, calming breath. “Vampire progeny have a strong connection to their makers, at least for the first few years after being made. As my progeny, you will be subconsciously pushed to obey my… will. And there is a strong possibility you will be unable to defy a direct command.”

Trevor's face was blank, and Adrian longed for a reaction, any reaction. Another angry outburst would be preferable to the silence that sat between them.

Finally, Trevor moved. He clenched his eyes shut and spoke slowly. “So, what you're telling me is, not only have you taken my life, my humanity, but you've also taken my free will?”

Adrian shattered. He didn't cry. He said he wouldn't, but he did sink to his knees and rest his head on the mattress. After a few deep pulls of air he spoke. 

“I will not make you do anything you do not wish to, but I also cannot loose a new vampire onto the world with no self control or training. I'm going to untie you now, but you will not leave the castle without me.”

Trevor growled again. “Is that an order?” 

Adrian lifted his head to meet Trevor’s eyes.

“Yes.”

 

* * *

 

Adrian set about removing the restraints. He started with the wrists, and when his hand brushed against Trevor's wrist with the last strap, Trevor recoiled.

The contrast of temperature, the coolness of Adrian's skin that Trevor had grown accustomed to was gone. The touch had felt nice, but that just made Trevor's stomach turn more. He was as cold as Adrian, possibly cooler. A vampire's touch should be like ice, utterly revolting, not “ _nice_.”

Adrian face was blank as he undid the remaining three restraints. Trevor didn't look at him.

Trevor fought the urge to grab the man by the neck and push him up against the wall as soon as his limbs were freed. The only thing stopping him was the knowledge that Adrian could order him to release him, and he'd have no choice but to comply. No, if he followed any of Adrian's orders it would be because he independently wanted the same thing. He wouldn't give him control.

Adrian turned as he left the room. “I'm going out. I'll be back in a few hours. Feel free to roam the castle as you wish but do not leave. And don't hurt yourself.”

Trevor grumbled in acknowledgement and Adrian shut the door behind him.

For the longest time Trevor just stood there staring at the wall. He felt nothing. Thought nothing. Just stood there in place, as silent as a statue. He could breathe, but found he did not need to. He could stand there perfectly still, no signs of life. Perfectly dead.

The rage bubbled up in him again. Adrian had taken _everything_ from him. He was going to marry Sypha, the only woman whose company he could stand. They were going to have children and he was going to rebuild the Belmont legacy.

It didn't matter that that's not what he wanted. He was still angry.

He grabbed a decorative ceramic bobble of some sort off a shelf and threw it against the wall. The sound it made as it shattered and the spray of broken pieces was deeply satisfying. Trevor had lost control of his destiny, his life, his free will, but he had control of Adrian's decor. He grabbed another and stomped on it, enjoying the crunch under his boot.

He turned his attention to the simple wooden chair Adrian had hunched in. He grasped it by the legs and brought it down against the flagstone floor hard. The entire structure shattered like the ceramic, leaving Trevor holding two chair legs and nothing else.

Huh. Vampire strength. The surprise over the chair broke Trevor from his rampage and he surveyed the damage. The shattered pots no longer made him feel like he was in control. He felt like a child throwing a tantrum because mommy said he couldn't go out until dinner was ready. 

He let one of the legs drop and stared at the splintered piece of wood in his hand. He could end it here, now. He was already dead, that wasn't a sin, just him fulfilling his duty as a hunter. Killing a vampire.

He pressed the makeshift stake against his bare chest, considering if he would actually be able to press the wood into his heart.

Adrian's words echoed in his mind. _“Don't hurt yourself”_

Shit. He let his arm fall limply to his side, tipped his head back, and closed his eyes. He needed some ale.

 

* * *

 

Adrian had leaned against Trevor's closed door for some time before departing. He hated issuing orders to the man who should be his equal, but the hard truth was that he wasn't his equal, not anymore. Vampire society was highly hierarchical, structured by age and bloodline. Vampire progeny are only bound by obligation to their sires for a few years- a blip in the long life of a vampire, but most remain loyal their entire lives. The power imbalance was undeniable. It made Adrian sick.

What would his mother think? Would she approve of him saving Trevor, or condemn him for endangering him in the first place?

He knew what his father would have thought. If it had been any other man he would have been proud, but to bring a Belmont into the fold? He would have killed them both, even before his madness.

He distantly heard the sound of shattering glass as he left the castle. If Trevor was in danger, he would have sensed it, and Adrian preferred him to take out his frustrations on the furniture rather than on either of them.

The night air was cool. Alone and calm again, he could almost pretend this was just a normal night, a normal hunting trip. But he wasn’t alone, he wouldn’t be alone for a long time, and tonight he hunted different prey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rating will go up, both for violence at the hands of a particular general and sexual content.
> 
>  
> 
> This is all set up for my favorite genre- angsty vampire smut
> 
>  
> 
> Edit:  
> Now, with music-   
> Possible spoiler warning if you’re incredibly intuitive   
> https://open.spotify.com/user/demiiboy/playlist/4ryTRq6b62mzj6Ktfl7LHu?si=XOiK9CIVS8SzgezJGbc32Q


	2. Drink

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian and Trevor both have a drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mild sexual content in this chapter.

Trevor first found the kitchens. Unsurprisingly sparse, the pantry did yield a bottle of wine which he uncorked and took a swig from. It was probably something expensive but he only cared about it's alcohol content. It tasted terrible but he downed it anyway. 

He was hungry. He knew what he was hungry for now, but for now the ache was manageable and the warmth of the wine kept his mind off it.

He wandered through the empty halls, occasionally taking swigs from the bottle. His pace was meandering but he did have a goal, he wanted- needed- to find his equipment, his shirt, his coat. He needed some normalcy. Most of the doors opened to empty rooms, or rooms empty of everything but books. He did recognize some parts of the castle, and respectfully kept the door to Adrian's childhood bedroom closed. He was beyond angry with the fucker, but there were some lines he wouldn't cross. He was civilized after all. Mostly. And he wasn't particularly keen on reliving that day. Not now.

He eventually did find an armory or sorts. Not the kind he’d expect from a castle of this magnitude but an armory nonetheless. A few swords hung on racks and a few chests lined the walls, one of which was open.

He set the bottle down on stone floor and walked over to the open chest. He was starting to feel the effects of the alcohol. At least he could still get drunk. Small mercies.

He leaned his head over the open chest. Inside, folded neatly was his cloak. He lifted it up and inspected it. There were blood stains around the collar but besides that it was in good condition. More small mercies. He draped his cloak over his arm and picked up the next article from the chest. It took him a second to piece together what he was looking at. The fabric was in shreds and stained deep red with blood. 

This was his shirt. The stain was his blood. Gross. Oh well, cloak, pants, and no shirt was an interesting look anyway. He tossed the ruined article aside and examined the remaining contents of the chest. Three items remained at the bottom: his belt, his short sword, and Vampire Killer. Beyond relieved, he grabbed his belt and cinched it at his waist before sheathing his sword. He reached in to reclaim his whip and swore when the material touched his skin.

It _burned_ and left an angry red welt across his palm. He swore and clutched his injured right hand against his chest.

“Fuck! It’s consecrated you big fucking idiot!” He kicked the chest closed with Vampire Killer still in it. He grabbed the bottle of wine off the ground with his good hand. He headed back to his… the room he woke up in. He’d had enough of exploring for now.

 

* * *

 

On a normal night, Adrian would assume his wolf form and stalk a nice deer, or rabbit if prey was scarce. But it was his insistence on sustaining himself on animal blood alone that had gotten him into this mess, and animal blood would do nothing for Trevor. It was a quirk of dhampir nature that allowed him to survive- but not thrive- on animal blood and it seemed Trevor had not inherited any of the traits Lisa had given him. They both needed human blood.

The nearby village was a little over three miles away. Normally, in his wolf form, he could cover the distance in 15 minutes, but tonight, he was weak. He was unsure if he would be able to hold his wolf form over the distance, or evade any normal human hunters who’d love to have a white wolf’s head mounted above their mantle for that matter. No, tonight he would walk. He didn’t particularly want to spend any more time alone with his thoughts, so he focused on the forest around him.

His night vision was good, far above that of a human, but he kept his eyes focused forward and tried to map out the life that surrounded him with his other senses. It was a meditative practice his mother had taught him as a child. He smiled, and decided to allow the fond memory to overtake him instead.

He had been six years old when the hunger struck him. Before then, he had nursed like any other child and eaten the meals his mother prepared for him. Neither of his parents had known what to expect from him; he was born without fangs so for the first few years of his life they operated under the assumption that he would be mostly human. But when he lost his teeth as all human children do, his canines had grown back in sharper- not quite fangs, but distinct enough for Vlad and Lisa to reevaluate their assumptions about their son.

Vlad was very old, and he had made a great many vampires in the past, but those individuals were all adults; teaching self control to a six-year-old dhampir was an entirely different matter. Vlad and Lisa worked together, teaching Adrian various “games” that would later be explained to him as mediation exercises: sensing life around him without his sight, standing as still as possible and allowing the boundary between self and nature blur, counting the leaves on a tree.

They had kept him off blood for as long as they could, still unsure what his nature would be, unsure if his maturation would halt if he partook. It took him trying to bite Lisa for her to send him off with his father on his trips to the nearby villages. He hadn’t broken the skin, but the incident startled Lisa horribly, to see her angelic child snarl at her in that way. 

He held his father’s hand as they walked. He had told him a great many things that he didn’t understand on the way. Adrian had been scared, he thought he was being punished for what he did.

Vlad hid him under his cloak when they reached a small cabin a good distance from the town walls. He knocked, and a pretty woman answered. She smiled up at him and welcomed him into her one room cabin. Once inside, his father had taken off his cloak to reveal a tiny Adrian, clutching to his leg. Confusion flashed across the woman’s face and she looked back up to Vlad for an answer, and as soon as she met his eyes her placid smile returned. The two of them sat down on the bed and Vlad gestured Adrian over. Vlad placed his lips to her wrist and bit down before withdrawing. 

Adrian had been entranced by the deep red against her tanned skin, by the smell, and by the hunger swirling in his little body. His father gently encouraged him until he too pressed his lips against her wrist.

When Adrian had had his fill, his father had wiped the blood from his face and wrapped the woman’s arm in bandages. She fell asleep and he gently positioned her on to her back and left a bottle of ointment and a small bag of coins on the nearby table. They walked back in silence.

The next day it was clear that Adrian’s once slightly-too-sharp teeth had become well and truly fangs. His mother had smiled and told him how proud she was of him, but he later found her crying in his father’s arms. She told him that she didn’t care that their son had taken more after his father, but that she wanted him to grow up, to become an adult, to see the world.

Her fears were assuaged when Adrian’s pants were a full inch shorter on him just a few weeks later.

There were no books on how to raise a dhampir, and there were no books on how to handle a newly turned vampire. That was something that vampire’s learned from their sires, but Adrian had no sire, just a mother and a father.

The gap between he and Trevor had to be mended, at least temporarily. Adrian had a responsibility to Trevor and a responsibility to everyone he came into contact with from this point forward to teach him as every vampire maker teaches their progeny. He needed to learn control, stealth, and delicacy, which were not traits Trevor particularly embodied _before_ taking on a vampiric nature. The task seemed impossible.  

He sighed, glad to be almost to the village. Like his father had when he was young, he would set up an arrangement with a human. Someone on the outskirts of town or society, preferably both. He would glamor them, feed, compensate them for the few days of weakness that would follow, and glamor them again to forget the ordeal. It was not the way most vampire’s operated, preferring to prey on those who would not be missed, and simply killing them, but his mother’s legacy was respect for life. He had tried to follow that by subsiding on animal blood alone and ended up taking a life anyway.

He circled around the village, silently observing for a while. A curious series of sounds piqued his interest and he stalked silently closer. As he got closer it became clear what was occurring: two people- two men- were… copulating in the woods. A blush spread over Adrian’s face. He gave them their privacy, but now that he knew what the sound was it was certainly… distracting. He attempted a meditative exercise but the distracting sound was replaced with quiet murmuring before he could count twenty leaves. 

He decided to watch where the men went. The taller of the pair ventured into the town center before entering a rectory attached to the church. He was out, then. He turned his attention to the other man.

He was beautiful. His skin showed signs of a hard life, sure, scars and pockmarks, but he had a glow about him. Adrian followed him through the woods to a small cabin on a modest plot of land. He entered and Adrian watched him through the window as he lit a candle. He approached and knocked softly at the door. He could hear the man's heart beat rapidly at the sound.

“Who’s there?” The man’s voice shook.

“A friend,” Adrian soothed.

The door opened slowly and deep green eyes met Adrian’s.  Adrian made the connection immediately. Glamoring someone was like narrowing one’s entire world to a pinpoint, thinking nothing of anything else but the subject and what one wishes for them to do.

“Invite me in.” Adrian didn’t need permission to enter a dwelling, nor did any vampire, but it felt like the polite thing to do, rather than pushing the man aside and barging in. He stood aside and gestured for Adrian to enter. He stepped inside, never breaking eye contact.

Once the door was shut behind Adrian asked him for his name. Adrian pushed a lock of his light brown hair behind his ear.

“Aersian” He was a few inches shorter than Adrian and he looked up at him unblinkingly.

“That’s an unusual name” Adrian smiled.

“I’m not from around here.” He gasped as Adrian shifted closer to him.

Adrian softly shushed him. The thrill of cornering prey like this nearly made him close his eyes in pleasure, but he remained focused.

“Be still and quiet now,” he ordered softly before he sank his teeth into the man’s neck. He withdrew and sealed his lips over the wound, allowing the man’s racing heart to do all the work, pushing blood past his tongue which he swallowed greedily. The man had hissed when Adrian penetrated him but he began to moan softly as Adrian dragged his tongue across the wound, encouraging the flow.

Adrian was deeply enjoying himself, indulging in his nature for the first time since his father’s death, and for a few moments as he drew from the man, thoughts of Trevor did not torment him. 

He was still in control, though, and stopped far before the point that he would normally. He withdrew a large flask from his coat pocket and pressed it against the man’s- Aersian’s- neck. He made an inquisitive sound before Adrian shushed him again, running his free hand through the man’s hair. He held the man there as the vessel filled, blood pooling in his clavicle before spilling down his torso. He really was an arresting sight, even more beautiful stained with his own blood.

Adrian corked the flask and pressed a cloth to the man’s neck. He guided Aersian’s hand to the cloth, instructing him to keep pressure on the wound.

“Are you alright?” Adrian asked the man.

“Yes.” His face was flushed and his eyes were full of wonder. This time it was he who shifted closer to Adrian and he pressed their pelvises together. Adrian gasped in surprise. He had been so focused he had not noticed that he had… become aroused. Aersian was hard too. He looked up at Adrian with a sly smile and grinded against him. 

“Ah! I’m sorry. I really have to go.” Adrian rushed. He met Aersian’s eyes once again and said, “I was never here, forget about this night.”

He left quickly and Aersian watched him leave with that same, sly smile.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cannibalized some plot from another fic I have in the works for this chapter, so that’s gonna be more P(without)P so that this can be P(with)P.
> 
> I upped the chapter total to 6 but the truth is, I have no idea how long this is going to be.


	3. To Be Or Not To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “To be, or not to be, that is the question:  
> Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer  
> The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,  
> Or to take arms against a sea of troubles  
> And by opposing end them...”

Adrian returned to the castle to find Trevor absolutely sloshed.

Trevor was leaning against a pillar in the entranceway when Adrian returned. He turned his head slightly towards the sound of the opening door. He squinted at the early dawn light that spilled through.

“Took ya long enough,” he slurred.

“I see you found your cloak,” Adrian said, ignoring him. “I tried to clean the blood out as best as I could. Sorry about your shirt.”

Trevor humphed. He pushed off from the pillar and started walking unsteadily toward Adrian. The soft sound of his leather boots unevenly hitting stone echoed in the empty hall.

“What were ya doin’ out there?”

“Trevor, you’re drunk.”

“Am not! I’ve only had one bottle of wine. I know my tolerance. Takes two or three to get _drunk_ ,” he answered indignantly.

He stumbled on an uneven flagstone and teetered forward. Adrian rushed forward to prevent him from crashing to the ground. He grabbed the man under the arms and hefted him back to his feet.

“I’m fine. I just tripped.” Trevor grumbled. His cheeks burned, from the alcohol, embarrassment, or contact Adrian didn’t know. He looked down, avoiding his friend’s eyes.

“Mm. Sure.” It was then that Adrian noticed the red welt across Trevor’s palm. He grabbed his wrist and brought it forward towards his face

“I tried to get my whip.” Trevor quipped before Adrian had time to ask. “I’m fine.”

Adrian didn’t contradict him, just slid his arm back under Trevor’s armpit. “Let’s get you back to your room.” Trevor didn’t fight against his guiding hand, but did mumble something like “I’m fine” or “it’s fine.”

The room Adrian had cleaned up for Trevor was a little bit away from the entrance hall, and the walk was extended by supporting a 200lb drunk vampire. Adrian was content with being quiet as they walked but Trevor insisted on making conversation.

“How come… I got little shitty fangs? Shouldn’t mine be bigger than yours since you’re only half _vampire_.”

Adrian tisked and rolled his eyes. “The transformation will be complete when you drink. They’ll grow.”

Trevor screwed up his face in disgust “Just another reason not to then.”

Adrian tisked once more and shifted Trevor up again. After another minute of walking, Trevor had started to doze off. Adrian had to jostle him awake a few times. Eventually they made it to the room. Adrian pushed open the door with his shoulder and unceremoniously dumped him on the bed, grateful for the strength that having recently fed granted him.

He had starved himself for so long, the power almost felt foreign.

 

He sat and watched Trevor sleep for some time, his face was so different lax like this, instead of pinched and furrowed as it normally was. He was beautiful like this.

He shut that line of thought down, guilt swirling in his core. He didn’t deserve to think of Trevor as beautiful. He left his room swiftly and headed to his own study.

In the chaos of the last few- how long had it been? A day and a half?- Sypha had been the furthest thing from Adrian’s mind, but she deserved to know what was going on. He pulled out ink, a pen, and paper from a drawer and sat down at his desk.

 

        _Sypha_ ,

 

He paused. He needed to be as straightforward as possible, but he also did not wish to panic Sypha. If he panicked her, she would run to Trevor’s side, putting herself into danger.

He stared at the blank paper for a long time. He considered lying, telling her that Trevor had a fever, that he was contagious and for her to stay away.

He couldn’t do that to her though.

He eventually settled for lying by omission.

 

    _Sypha,_

_There’s been an accident. Trevor was hurt but is healing. Stay with the Speakers a little longer. Please don’t visit._

 

He would tell her the full truth when Trevor was safe to be around. He supposed there was a 50% chance she would show up anyway, but the chance was lower than if she received no correspondence at all (which would nearly guarantee a visit). He walked with the letter to the aviary, tied it to a carrier pigeon’s leg and sent the creature on its way.

He retired to his room- not his childhood bedroom, he had renovated an old guest room near his study. He hung his coat on a peg and removed his boots. He lay down on the made bed. He was past processing what he’d done to Trevor. He accepted it. He hated himself for it, but he accepted what he had done and what he had to do to atone.

Right now, he was bothered by the strange man he drank from. His lucidity hadn’t slipped past Adrian. Perhaps he was just rusty- he hadn’t glamored a human since his awakening- or his current predicament with Trevor had made him distracted and his control had slipped.

The man hadn’t seemed upset, so the chances of the Church storming the castle were low, he figured. The opposite- he seemed to enjoy Adrian’s presence very much. Adrian groaned when his body reacted to the memory, stolen blood pooling low.

Now was not the time, and he found it easy to distract himself from the memory with plans for how to help Trevor, how to ease him into his new life.

He had a plan.

 

* * *

 

 

Trevor had strange dreams.

He found himself floating. He looked up and saw an impressive gothic ceiling. He traced the supports with his eyes for a while. He flipped over and looked down when he heard a strange gurgle from below. It took him a moment to process what was happening with the two figures from this perspective. One, in black, hunched over the other, obscuring him.

He floated closer and the familiarity of the figures hit him- he was looking at Adrian hunched over his own crumpled form from above- a passive observer.

It was… savage. Adrian didn’t _bite,_ he _ripped_ , growling as he tore out chunks of Trevor’s flesh. Trevor’s stomach did an uneasy flip at the scene.

He felt his feet lightly touch down on the floor. He didn’t feel any pain, as detached as he was. He walked closer to the scene, morbidly fascinated.

Adrian's back was to him. He reached out his hand towards the man’s shoulder, wanting to test the reality of either himself or the vision in front of him.

His hand passed through Adrian like smoke, but the moment his fingers should have touched solid flesh he was hit with a wave of hunger so intense he doubled over. Is this what Adrian had felt in that moment?

He made a move to step back and accidentally kicked his fallen short sword. It skittered across the floor making a startling _ski-ski-ski_ sound.

The vision of Adrian whipped around. His hair was matted together with blood and his face was covered in gore. He growled and lept towards Trevor.

 

Trevor woke up yelling.

He sat upright and calmed down when he recognized his surroundings. Just a dream. It was just a dream. But the hunger he had felt still churned in his stomach. He let his head fall into his hands.

He flopped back onto the bed. What was he going to do? The dream felt like a warning but he couldn't parse of what. Was it what he would become if he drank, or if he didn't?

 

* * *

 

 

Adrian knocked softly on the door.

Trevor hummed “Mh-hm” offhandedly. Adrian pushed inside. Trevor was sprawled out on the bed, still clothed and still on top of the sheets. He covered his eyes with his forearm. Adrian sat down next to the bed. He had cleaned up the wreckage and pulled in a new chair while Trevor was passed out.

“How are you feeling? How’s your hand?”

Trevor grumbled. “Bad. Hurts like hell.” He tilted his arm off and looked at Adrian out of the corner of his eye. “Shouldn’t I be healing?”

“You won’t heal when you’re starving. That’s why you got so drunk last night- not enough blood to thin out the alcohol.”

Trevor hummed again. “I’m fine.” The hunger churned in Trevor’s core, but like hell he was going to tell Adrian that.

Adrian retrieved the flask of blood he collected from his belt and rolled it around in his hands.

“I’m _fine_.” Trevor closed his eyes again. He could smell the metallic contents even through the cork. Super smelling was a curse.

Adrian sighed. “You won’t be for long. Not only will you grow weak and die, but the hunger will drive you mad. Make you feral. Not even I could stop you from hurting- killing- someone if that happened.”

“Then I’ll die.”

Adrian sighed. “I could make you drink, you know.”

“I would never forgive you.”

Arian uncorked the bottle. He didn’t move it toward Trevor yet, just held it there contemplatively. The smell made Trevor’s stomach turn. He wanted it. He hated it. Adrian held it out towards him and said nothing. The order implied, but unsaid. He considered it for a moment. He could end the pain, end the churning hunger, right now, but he would never be human again. He growled and knocked the offering to the ground, spilling its contents on the stone floor. Adrian tisked harshly and left the room without a word. He returned with a cloth and cleaned up the mess. Trevor stood against the far wall, putting as much distance between himself and the spill as possible.

When he was done, Adrian handed Trevor a small bottle with a thick white liquid inside.

“What’s this?” He questioned.

“It’s ointment for your hand. It will keep it from getting infected.”

Trevor grunted in acknowledgment and Adrian shut the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

 

Trevor regretted spilling that blood. Not because he wanted it, but because the stain remained on the corner of the room’s carpet and the smell lingered. It tortured him.

He wouldn’t drink. Couldn’t. But he knew that he would- Adrian had said it himself- he would turn feral, leave the castle, and kill every person he came into contact with.

If he didn’t drink, maybe Sypha could save him, reverse the process. There wasn’t anything on reversing vampirism in the Belmont hold because vampire sires usually made their progeny drink immediately, but maybe, somewhere...

With how he was feeling after less than two days, though, he knew that wasn’t going to happen. It would take Sypha at least three to even reach the castle, let alone find a mythical cure that he had never even heard whispers of, and the moment she arrived he knew he would kill her on the spot.

Which was the greater sin? Choosing to fully become a vampire, spitting in the face of his legacy, or being forced to and claiming human lives with him. Logically, he knew it was the latter, but the idea of accepting a cup of blood and downing it seemed like the most grievous action he could possibly take.

He sat on the bed with his head in his hands. He was so fucking hungry. He didn’t know where the line to “feral” lay but he was feeling damn crazy already. Blood was all he could think about- mostly his own repulsion- but he was stuck in a loop nonetheless.

 

* * *

 

 

Adrian returned a few hour later. Trevor had remained in the room, despite the spill, because he rationalized the space as his prison. If he left, wandered about more, this place might be… home.

“Is it safe to assume that you’ll knock over any blood I offer you again?” Adrian had been so patient earlier, but his face was now clearly creased in frustration.

“Pretty much”

“Trevor Belmont, you are the most stubborn man I have ever met. Your self control in this matter is admirable, remarkable even.” Trevor rolled his eyes. “Listen. I have an idea. A way to satisfy your hunger without changing you any more. I don’t want you to be trapped here but I can’t let you leave in this state.”

Trevor stared at him blankly. “...And?”

“You can drink my blood.”

Trevor scoffed, causing Adrian to scowl. “Trevor, I am trying here. If you have any other ideas feel free to voice them now. Don’t you want to see Sypha again?”

The words cut through Trevor like a knife. Of course he wanted to see her again. But would she want to see him?

Adrian shifted closer. “Again, I will not order you, but we both know what has to be done.” He pushed his sleeve up. Trevor watched as Adrian’s nail met his pale skin and drew a vertical line of red. The smell hit him, even more intense than the cup that Adrian had offered him. Maybe it was how fresh it was, maybe it was Adrian’s dhampir nature, or maybe it was the connection they shared, but Trevor wanted it. He wanted it so badly.

Adrian lifted his wrist closer to Trevor’s face. Trevor slowly grabbed it with shaking hands.

A drop of blood welled up and spilled over the side of Adrian’s arm. Trevor instinctively stuck out his tongue and lapped it up before it could fall. Fuck. He was really doing this.

He moaned quietly. The taste soothed his pain a touch but it clearly wasn’t enough. He didn’t feel any different, though, so maybe this was alright. Yes, this was just him taking the necessary steps to retain his humanity until something could be done, not him giving in to bloodlust.

He took a deep breath and sealed his lips around the wound. It tasted like blood, of course, He had been punched in the mouth enough times to be familiar with the metallic taste, but it also tasted like heaven, like all the most amazing foods combined. He swallowed the first mouthful. It hit stomach like the opium solution Adrian had once given him after a particularly nasty injury, instantly soothing the ache that had been steadily getting worse.

He felt himself sink to his knees and Adrian followed him. He faintly felt Adrian’s hand card through his hair as he swallowed mouthful after mouthful of his blood. The hand began to tug lightly but he continued taking what Adrian’s body was giving him, lost in the haze of pleasure and relief.

A single word cut through fog: “stop”

Trevor immediately popped his lips off Adrian’s wrist with a gasp.

Adrian pressed his other hand against the wound and elevated his arm to stop the flow. “Sorry. I said I wouldn’t order you.”

Trevor looked down. “No, I’m sorry I got caught up like that.” His face burned with humiliation and he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, leaving a vibrant red streak.

After he wrapped his wrist in a bandage Adrian handed Trevor a handkerchief. He took it and wiped down his face. Most of the white cloth came away red.

He sat for a while on the floor. The hunger remained but it was much quieter now. He could almost forget it was there. Almost.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for sidelining Sypha in these early chapters- her powers would break an upcoming plot point, but do not fear!- she will be an important part of later chapters, though most likely not in the way you may be thinking.
> 
> And yes, I quoted Shakespeare as my chapter summary. I’m a pretentious shit.


	4. Old Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that it is safe for her, Adrian goes to retrieve Sypha from the Speakers, leaving Trevor alone in the castle.
> 
> Dark forces invade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Graphic depictions of torture start here! Heed the new tags.
> 
> I’m interpreting the line “I can’t read or understand magic” as Trevor can’t read magic spells or enchanted books, not that he’s illiterate, because he was educated until around age 12 presumably and reading isn’t particularly a use-it-or-lose-it skill.

The next day, Trevor told Adrian about his plan to have Sypha help him search for a cure. Adrian didn’t seem particularly enthusiastic, but he didn’t object either. 

“I was planning to retrieve her soon anyways, now that she wouldn’t be in danger,” Adrian told him. Trevor winced at the insinuation, but he knew that it was true. 

Together they decided that Adrian would go to retrieve Sypha while Trevor remained in the castle. Trevor probably wasn’t ready to travel during the day yet, and they both were relying on Adrian having plenty of time to explain everything to Sypha before they saw each other again. The trip would take about a week. Adrian had drained and stored some of his blood in the cellar for Trevor, and Trevor intended to spend the free time in the Belmont hold, looking for anything that might point him in the right direction to even where to begin looking for a cure.

Trevor helped Adrian fit a horse with a saddle and saddle bags which they filled with sleeping rolls and food for Sypha. When it was time for Adrian to depart, Trevor awkwardly patted him on the shoulder and watched his form shrink on the horizon. Before he left, Adrian rescinded his order not to leave the castle, but advised against  going too far away from the Belmont grounds.

Neither of them would anticipate what lay ahead of them.

 

* * *

 

 

The road to the Speaker’s camp passed through the neighboring village, and Adrian was glad to have left at night and avoid the curiosity of the villagers. They knew of the castle, of course, it would be somewhat hard to miss, and they knew of the stories of Dracula’s defeat, but he was just a rumor- the mysterious blonde noble. He preferred to keep it that way.

Adrian squirmed in the saddle. He wasn’t particularly fond of horse travel- his wolf form was much faster and more comfortable- but Sypha would need a way back. They could ride back together on the horse double, Sypha’s warmth on his skin, or he could follow behind as a wolf. Both sounded nice.

Sypha was never repulsed by his abilities. She only ever showed academic curiosity in him. The first time she saw his wolf form she had launched a barrage of questions, many of which Adrian didn’t fully know the answers too. She had run her fingers through his fur, remarking on its softness. He may miss her nearly as much as Trevor does.

For the first time in a while, Adrian was feeling hopeful. He severely doubted that the cure Trevor sought existed, but the search would be good for him. Good for all of them. It would give Trevor hope during the difficult transitional period, and unite the trio once again.

He could continue to survive off of Adrian’s blood and he would show him he could very much still be the Vampire Hunter Trevor Belmont. With gloves, he should be able to take up his whip again, and maybe he would accept that his new strength only made him a better hunter.

He could feed off the vampires he hunted, become less dependent on Adrian. Maybe they could just be friends again.

 

* * *

 

The next few days passed quietly. Trevor fell into comfortable routine, he would go into the Belmont hold beneath the castle, grab a few books with promising titles, and return to a study with a comfortable chair that he had found.

So far, his search was fruitless, but he didn’t seem to tire. He had slept maybe four hours since Adrian left, each time was plagued with nightmares. It was more refreshing to just remain awake.

He had started to become a little hungry, but the idea of the cold blood in the cellar made him want to gag. Adrian had said that he mixed it with a preservative of his mother’s design, so it wouldn’t clot or go bad, but still.  At least it was there, though. It would probably be more appetizing if he waited a bit. 

He did his best to keep his mind off Sypha. Logically, he knew that she would not reject him- she had never once been scared of Adrian, never flinched when he accidentally flashed his fangs, but anxiety churned in his stomach when he pictured the reunion. She  _ should _ be scared of him. She  _ should _ be repulsed. Maybe it was his responsibility to push her away, keep her safe.

He closed the book he was reading. He hadn’t yet decided if he was enjoying his solitude. He should be- he should still be angry at Adrian and glad for his absence, and he should be happy that Sypha was safely away from him. Instead, he found himself wanting them both here with him.

 

* * *

 

Sypha had wrapped her arms around Adrian’s neck when he arrived before immediately pulling off, remembering she was cross with him.

“‘There’s been an accident’? ‘Please don’t visit’!? That is  _ not _ what I want to read in a letter, Adrian!”

Adrian took her hand. “I know, but I didn’t have much of a choice. If I said more you would have stormed the castle and put yourself in grave danger.” He led her over to some crates and they sat down before he recounted what had happened. He spoke plainly and Sypha watched him with furrowed brows.

“But he’s alright? He’s still Trevor?”

“He’s very much still Trevor Belmont. First thing he did was steal a bottle of wine from the cellar.” Sypha smiled at that. “He’s… somewhat stuck right now. He is undead, but because he has not yet had human blood he is not yet fully vampire. He thinks you may be able to ‘cure’ him if he does not.”

Sypha furrowed her brow once again. “I’ve not heard of such a thing.”

“Neither have I. I do not think such a thing is possible, but it’s important to Trevor that we try.” Adrian sighed.

“I’m ready to go now. I’ve said my goodbyes to the other Speakers.”

Adrian nodded.

 

* * *

 

Trevor had been sleeping peacefully for the first time in days when he was awoken by a strange sound. It was like the chitter of insects, but somewhat metallic? He closed his eyes and listened closer. With some focus, he was able to make out the faint sound of voices under the chitter. He immediately sat up, adrenaline flooding his veins. Adrian and Sypha were supposed to be at least two more days, and while he heard voices, he sensed no life, heard no heartbeats.

Vampires. He wanted to rush out, take them on, but he had no way of knowing how many there were, and he was armed only with his short sword. 

_ Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck. _

He may be able to make it to the armory but what then? He couldn't use his whip, and he still was unfamiliar with the terrain of the castle. He needed to retreat, find Sypha and Adrian, and take this on as a group.

He could see out the small window in the room. It was early morning, the sun just starting to lighten the color of the sky. He gritted his teeth. He wouldn’t make it; the sun would get to him far before he found his companions or even shelter.

He was trapped. He wanted to scream in frustration. The metallic chitter- the clink of armor- was drawing closer to his door. He looked around the room frantically, and his eyes landed on the newly-replaced chair- that’s right!- he had stashed the stake he had made that first day. He gingerly got off the bed and crouched down, reaching for the underside of the frame. He wrapped his hand around the jagged wood.

He didn’t have time to celebrate; he heard the doors down the hall being systematically thrown open. He positioned himself next to the door, stake in one hand, sword in the other. He flinched slightly with each “SLAM!” From the footfalls he worked out there were two of them. He widened his stance slightly.

The door to his room flew open. He waited for the first man to enter the room before he made his move. He bared down with the stake but it thumped uselessly against a metal breastplate. Shame.

He jumped back before the armored man could retaliate. He growled something in a language Trevor didn’t understand. The second man who trailed behind him leaned out the doorway and barked a word down the hall. More armor clanked down the hall towards them.  _ Shit _ .

Trevor held a defensive stance, the tip of his short sword pointed outward, the stake curled at his side. The two fully armored vampire men circled him but maintained a distance. They were pinning him in a corner. He rolled between the two and made a break for the door. The sun might pin him in the castle but he could at least find a more advantageous place to fight. The two in the room swiped at him but just barely missed. They stumbled and Trevor ran for the door. 

...and right into a huge set of armor. He fell back and each of the vampires behind him grabbed one of his arms. He tried to pull them off balance and flip them but the frankly huge third man pinned him to the ground with a foot to his chest. He swore and thrashed about. Where was that vampire strength when he needed it?

His arms were wrenched above his head and he heard the metal clink of chains. Still pinned by the larger man, one of the two behind him held his arms together while the other wrapped his forearms in chain. The moment it touched his skin it felt as if his arms had been set on fire. He screamed. The vampire paused momentarily and stared at where Trevor’s skin hissed and bubbled before returning to the task of binding his arms.

It was the same burn he felt when he grabbed Vampire Killer, but this time he couldn’t escape. His head swam. The two behind him stepped back when they were done and the third pulled him up by his hair. He slammed Trevor back to the ground on his stomach, before grabbing the end of the chain.

“Get up!” He barked. He had a strange accent that Trevor could not place. Trevor stood slowly. When he had both of his feet once again on the ground he made a move to sweep the large man’s legs out from under him. He spun and yanked his arms away. The man stumbled when Trevor’s leg connected with his own and dropped the chain, but before Trevor could take a step forward, the other two were on him, shoving him back to the ground.

He was once again pulled up by his hair and pushed out into the hallway. Someone pulled sharply on the chain, making the metal bite deeper into his skin. The three men half-pushed half-dragged him down the hall. Trevor spat half formed swears and taunts at the men, though he was somewhat sure that they couldn’t understand them. 

When they got to the grand entrance hall Trevor was forced to his knees and kicked sharply in the back. He crumpled forward. His adrenaline high was fading and the pain was becoming more and more sharp. Besides the burning on his arms, he was pretty sure he had a broken rib at least. Blood filled his mouth and he spat it out. 

He heard a soft  _ click-click _ against the stone floor behind him, much different than the clank of armor. The sound circled around him, stopping by his head. Cold fingers met his chin, forcing his head upwards.

He blinked at the strange figure in front of him- a woman, with snow-white hair and skin almost as pale.

‘And who might you be?” She cooed, “You couldn’t be… no” she dug the finger of her free hand into Trevor’s jaw, forcing it open. She ran a painted nail along his teeth. She withdrew her hand and chuckled. Trevor snapped his mouth shut. “Trevor Belmont! A vampire… almost.” Her eyes sparkled with sick glee.

“And who might you be?” Trevor imitated with a smirk.

Her lips turned down. “I am Carmilla of Styria, and this is my castle.”

Trevor laughed. “Oh?”

Carmilla sneered. “It was my armies that defeated Dracula. You just swept in and stole the kill.” She turned her back to him. “I was expecting to find the castle empty, or if anyone, just Alucard inside, hence the silver chains. You are quite the surprise, but not an unwelcome one. I could use some competent minions. My remaining soldiers are so incredibly stupid they thought  _ you _ were Alucard.” She turned slightly back towards him and and peered at him from the corner of her eye. “Put a shirt on you animal.”

She appeared lost in thought for a while. She paced around a few meters in front of Trevor. The large soldier kept a constant pressure on his left soldier, keeping him kneeling on the uneven flagstones. After some time Carmilla spun towards Trevor and strode towards him with confident strides.

“I’ve decided, Belmont. We’re going to have some fun.” The gleam in her eye deeply terrified him.

She extended one of her extremely long, razor sharp nails towards his face. He winced when she deliberately nicked his cheek. She trailed the hand down his face before slashing a line across his throat.

He choked and sputtered as his blood splashed on the castle floor. He tried to wiggle away but the pressure on his shoulder increased. He was going to die. He was going to die here in the same spot he should have died days ago. He had been so eager to die before, but now he found himself completely terrified.

Carmilla watched him struggle. Eventually the flow stopped, his flesh knitting itself back together. She rubbed against his neck with her thumb, humming, before slashing another line across his skin. Black spots were gathering in the corners of his vision and his thrashing was weaker. The flow lasted longer this time; his body struggling to heal.

He coughed and gasped for air he didn’t need and Carmilla laughed.

 

* * *

 

Something was terribly, terribly wrong.

They had been riding peacefully, with Sypha back pressed to his chest, when Adrian nearly fell off the horse. He was suddenly hit with an overwhelming wave of dread. He stopped the horse and clutched his chest, trying to get his breathing under control. 

Sypha had been dozing off but snapped awake. She flipped around in the saddle. “Adrian? Adrian, what’s wrong?”

“It’s.. ah. Trevor. Something’s wrong with Trevor.”

Her face creased with worry. “What do you mean?”

“It’s the vampire-progeny connection. I can sense how he’s feeling, sometimes. He’s scared, he’s so scared Sypha.”

She grabbed the reins from him and encouraged the horse back to a gallop.

 

* * *

 

Two more vampire soldiers entered from the other side of the grand hall, bringing their total number to five. There was another, unarmored, man leaning against the wall, but Trevor was too dazed to take much notice of him.

Carmilla pushed Trevor towards the advancing soldiers and addressed them in that same language he couldn’t understand. She turned and said something else to the other three, who left in three different directions.

Before the two led him away, Carmilla turned once more to Trevor.

“Brace yourself, Belmont. We’re taking the castle back to Styria.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note on vampire biology: Theoretically, without a heartbeat, vampire’s should not “bleed” in the way we see in living things. My explanation for this is that vampire circulatory systems have a continuous flow powered by magic (? Sure.) instead of the pumping of the heart- think faucet instead of a water pump.
> 
> I should also address my choice to use “Adrian” over “Alucard.” I imagine that post s2, as part of trying to form his own identity not shaped by his father, Adrian would have asked his friend’s to use his given name. I originally planned a scene where Trevor called him “Alucard” to highlight that he no longer thought of him as a friend in the way that he had, but I couldn’t quite work it in.


	5. New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Carmilla has plans for Trevor Belmont. Adrian and Sypha continue their rush back to the castle.

Eventually, Adrian and Sypha had to rest. Mostly Sypha. Adrian could keep going for days, but Sypha could not, and he was struggling to keep her from falling off the saddle and becoming seriously injured when she could stay awake no longer.

Adrian dismounted first, helping the exhausted Sypha safely to the ground. Adrian pulled two sleeping rolls and half a loaf of bread from the saddle bags while Sypha listlessly gathered firewood. She uncaringly dumped her armload on the ground and used her magic to set it alight. They were silent as they worked.

Adrian sat by the fire, eyes unseeing. Sypha rolled over towards him. There were tears in her eyes.

She broke the silence. “What do you think it could be? What’s happening to him?”

“Sypha, you need sleep.”

“How am I supposed to sleep when I don’t even know what we’re running towards? What has Trevor so scared?”

Adrian sighed. Their silence for the last half a day had given him time to think and agonize. “When I was attacked- I believe it was by a pack of hunters. It could be them, trying to finish me off, or…” he trailed off slightly. “It could be whatever they were hunting.”

Sypha sat up slightly. “‘Whatever they were trailing’... did Trevor not tell you?”

Adrian blinked.

Sypha cursed softly. “The whole reason he went back to the castle in the first place was to tell you what we had heard about the movement of Dracula’s generals! I can’t believe he didn’t tell you- I know things got complicated but…” She exhaled sharply.  “We heard that a vampire named Carmilla had entered Wallachia. If there were multiple hunters in the area, they may have been trailing her...”

Adrian hadn’t heard anything after “Carmilla.” Sypha’s voice seemed a million miles away, drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears and the crackle of the fire. Carmilla. Carmilla may be the one who scared Trevor so badly. Carmilla has the castle. Carmilla has  _ Trevor _ .

“... do you know of her?”

Adrian’s attention snapped back to Sypha. He didn’t wish to scare her further but his face must have betrayed his horror. The color drained from her face.

“It’s really bad, isn’t it?” She asked quietly.

Adrian took a steading breath. “It may be. You only heard of her, not an army?”

“Just her, though she may not be totally alone.”

Adrian nodded. “If it is her, and she has taken the castle with a small amount of men, she’s probably not planning to stay. She’ll try move the castle.”

“No one’s moving the castle anytime soon.”

“Let’s hope we get there before she figures that out.”

 

* * *

 

 

The two soldiers roughly led Trevor through the winding hallways. He was too tired, in too much pain to put up much of a fight. They were steadily going down and eventually reached a heavy door. One tightly gripped his shoulder while the other pulled it open.

Trevor was shoved inside and the door swung shut behind him. He tumbled down a few stairs before landing on a cold floor with a groan.

“...Hello?” A soft voice called out from the darkness.

Trevor whipped his head towards the sound. “Who’s there?” He responded gruffly.

“My name is Sophie. Who are you? Why am I here?”

“Sophie? How long have you been here?” Trevor squinted. His vision was adjusting to the dark. He could just make out a figure curled up in the corner of the room. He could feel her heartbeat in the air. Human. Not another vampire, thank god.

“I was just brought here. Two men they… they grabbed me from the village and dragged me here.” She was crying softly and hiccuped.

Trevor wanted to reach out to her, put a comforting hand on her shoulder, but thought better of it.

“My name is Trevor. I won’t let them hurt you.”

The girl hiccuped. Trevor started again, “Sophie, I need your help. I’m tied up and the chains are burning me, but they won’t hurt you. Are you bound?” She shook her head. “Good, that’s good. I am going to back up towards you.”

He scooted backwards towards her. She reached out with shaky hands and grasped the chains binding Trevor’s arms. He hissed when they moved and touched un-burned skin. She dropped the chain in surprise. After a few more false starts she eventually undid the chains and Trevor sighed in relief. He kicked them into a pile in the corner.

His mind was a little clearer now that he was freed from the chains. Trevor rubbed at his arms. The flesh was still seared and raw, he hadn’t seemed to heal at all, but the psychological effects of knowing it wasn’t getting worse lessened the pain.

He was weak and he was hungry- he hadn’t noticed before, too consumed with the pain and panic, but now that he was in this pitch black dungeon with no distractions besides a living girl and her heartbeat in his ears.

Still, the girl was scared. As much as he wanted to curl up in the opposite corner and sleep, her tears upset him. So, Trevor distracted Sophie with quiet conversation. He asked her about her village, her family, if she had any pets. She asked him what was going on, who were the people that had taken her, and he did his best to answer without panicking her further.

He figured she was grabbed to be a meal for Carmilla and her soldiers, but he couldn’t quite work out why he was thrown down with her, or why he wasn’t already dead, for that fact. It seemed like Carmilla was trying to kill him, but she stopped just before she actually drained him.

Even as they talked, though, Trevor kept his back pressed to the wall furthest from her.

After some time, the door opened. The doorway framed three figures- Carmilla flanked by two of the soldiers. Carmilla nodded and one of them dragged Trevor into the room above.

They didn’t seem to care that he was unbound. He was still too weak to put up much of a fight anyway, but he did try to elbow the guard who grabbed his arm. Ultimately he was forced back into the all-too-familiar position of on he knees in front of the vampire woman. He sneered and spat on her shoes.

She hissed and wrenched his head up by his chin. “You dare spit on me when I offered you such a delectable gift? What is that saying about not biting the hand that feeds you, hm?” Her eyes narrowed. “I had my men grab her on the way for me. Traveling makes me ever so thirsty, you see, but I thought it would be more fulfilling to see you hunched over her corpse.”

Trevor’s eyes widened in horror. Carmilla wanted him to… kill this girl?

“No! … I-“ Trevor protested. Carmilla tightened her grip on his chin and pulled his head up towards her. He felt his knees lift off the ground.

“I suppose I’ll just have to whet your appetite further” 

She slashed a line across his throat once more. Trevor crumpled to the floor. The pain not even registering anymore, just the sick drain and the emptiness it left. The crimson puddle spread around where his head rested on the stone tile. He tried to move his head away but only succeeded in coating more of his face in his own blood.

He felt like a dog being rubbed in its own vomit. He pressed his hand against the wound, trying to will the flow to stop. He heard laughter above him but it sounded muffled and distant. 

So, Carmilla wasn't trying to kill him, but maybe she'd gone too far, maybe he’d die here, alone, in some random store room of Dracula’s castle. 

Slowly, though, the gush slowed to a trickle. Carmila kicked him in the side with her sharp shoe. “Where’s that Belmont spirit, hm? No harsh words for me?”

Trevor didn't stir. He didn't care anymore. He just wanted to sleep. 

She pouted. “You’re no fun.” She kicked him again. “Look at me or I throw you back in there with your girlfriend.”

He looked up and gave her his best defiant glare. He gritted and bared his teeth. The effect would have been enhanced by the blood dripping down half his face if they didn’t both know it was his own.

She nodded and the two guards were on him again. They grabbed his shoulders and pushed him back through the open doorway and back into the cellar. Trevor wasn’t surprised by the lie. The only thing he felt was dread.

 


	6. Old Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian encounters a familiar face.

The door slammed behind Trevor. He landed on the ground limply, bypassing the stairs all together. Sophie let out a soft “eep!”

“Trevor? What happened?” She moved to stand up.

“Stay back!” He barked. He rolled over and groaned. His whole body hurt, every cell screaming at him for attention.

What a shit hand god had given him. The whole series of events that led to him being trapped in this space, in pain and blood-starved, with a scared human girl, seemed like a cruel joke. 

Time was hard to judge since he’d been woken up by Carmilla’s men. He’d passed three days between Adrian’s departure and Carmilla’s arrival- that means they could be back any time now, or it could be another three or four days. He didn’t know which he preferred. A quick rescue would be ideal of course, but he could also see it going very very wrong. They didn’t know what they were walking in to. Carmilla was older, stronger, than Adrian, and the image of Sypha, beaten bloody, being thrown down here with him felt like another kick of Carmilla’s boot in his side.

Carmilla had terrified him with the possibility that he might kill this girl, but right now he felt surprisingly in control. He was hungry, sure, but the pain seemed to temper that, keep him grounded.

Trevor realized he must be quite the sight, drenched in his own blood as he was. He grimaced as he stood up. He had healed enough to stop bleeding, but his pain suggested that he was very broken inside. He grabbed an empty sack off the floor and sat back down. He did his best to clean the blood from his face with it before tossing it in the corner over the chains.

They sat in silence for some time.

“I… I heard her, you know.” Sophie’s voice shook. “When she brought me here she told me she was going to kill me but now… why does she want you to kill me?” Her voice took on a hysterical pitch. “Do you work for her? Whose blood was that?”

Trevor scoffed. “I don’t work for that bitch! It’s  _ my _ blood and I’m  _ not _ going to kill you.”

“Then why would she say that?!” Tears filled her eyes.

Trevor sighed. “I’m not working for her. I’m a prisoner too. But I am… like her. Sort of. She’d like me to kill you to prove I’m a monster like her. But I’m not like her.” He clenched his jaw.

They fell back into silence.

He was telling the truth, he was nothing like Carmilla, but as time passed, the pain began to fade and the hunger was beginning to set into his core. The more he healed the hungier he became, his body screaming at him to replenish what Carmilla had taken and it was using to knit flesh and mend broken bones. He doubled over, trying to will his healing to stop, to slow down, anything. He wanted to scream, to cry, to  _ wake up _ from this horrible nightmare. 

Sophie was crying. Each sob felt like a dagger through Trevor’s skull. He clutched his head. All of his senses felt magnified, horrifically so. He could smell the salt of her tears, hear the  _ thump thump _ of her heartbeat. It was all too much.

“Shut up!” He roared. He immediately regretted the outburst, but not before Sophie scrambled backwards, her back connecting and her arm scraping against the rough-hewn stone wall. The smell of blood immediately cut through the sensory background radiation that had been tormenting him.

 

* * *

 

They made it to the castle by midday. Adrian scoped ahead in his wolf form. He hoped they’d at least have the element of surprise. The castle looked much the same way he left it- no camps or garrisons, just two suits of white and black armor, gleaming in the sunlight. Human soldiers?

The color’s and crests confirmed their worst fears- these were Carmilla’s men- but their low numbers were encouraging. He made his way back to Sypha and they planned their course of attack.

They would attack now, as soon as possible, while the sun was to their advantage. Without any idea what lay inside, being able to retreat to the sunlight where Carmilla and most vampire’s could not follow might save their lives.

They crept towards the entrance where the guards stood, Adrian’s sword hovering by his shoulder like a second companion. Sypha wasn’t the most stealthy, but she was quiet enough, and their approach went undiscovered. Adrian looked into her eyes and nodded. With that, Adrian’s sword sliced through the air and into the exposed joint of the first soldier’s helmet and gorget, piercing his neck. At the same time, Sypha’s ice slashed into the other. 

Adrian winced at the sound of armor hitting stone, but all and all this first move had gone well. They approached the steps, stepping over the fallen soldiers. Adrian pressed his ear to the wooden door. He heard no movement inside.

He slowly pushed open the door. Sypha stood behind him, hands raised, fingers posed, ready to strike at the first sign of trouble. But trouble didn’t come- they were able to enter the entrance hall without any resistance.

The smell hit Adrian immediately as he stepped in. The flagstones were covered in blood. Trevor’s blood. This was the spot that he… but he had cleaned that up. This was fresh. And there was so much of it.

Sypha’s hand flew up and pressed against her mouth and nose. “Oh god. Oh god! Adrian is that..?” He nodded. “He couldn’t survive this… he’s…”

Adrian shook his head. “He’s not dead. I’d be able to feel it. Don’t underestimate a vampire’s ability to heal.” Sypha winced slightly, still not used to hearing about vampiric abilities so closely associated with her hunter friend.

Adrian scanned the grand entrance hall once more. His eyes almost skipped over a dark shape in the shadows. He felt a jolt of fear. That hadn’t been there before. Sypha saw his shock and followed his gaze. She stiffened when she too made out a figure.

“Who’s there?” She called out. Adrian shot her a disapproving glance. 

“Ask your friend” was the last thing Adrian heard before the world around him faded to white mist.

 

* * *

 

The world rematerialized around Adrian. He hadn’t felt like he moved, but he found himself outside the door of the castle again. He looked around. The bodies of Carmilla’s soldiers were gone, and there was no blood or evidence they had been there at all. 

“Sypha?” He called out. He got no response. He knew the castle could play tricks on people, but he never experienced it first-hand. Were the soldiers they fought and the figure in the shadows the illusion, or was this? He cautiously pushed open the door. Once again, the entrance hall wasn’t empty- a figure stood in the shadows fifty feet or so in front of him.

Adrian stood completely still as his eyes adjusted. Very quickly, he was able to make out the familiar shape of the silhouette.

“...Trevor?” The shape stepped into the torch-cast light, it was indeed Trevor Belmont. Adrian stepped towards him. “Trevor? Are you alright? I sensed your fear I- we- came back as quickly as we could.

Trevor lazily rolled his shoulders. “Just some vampires. Thought they could take the castle. Nothing I couldn’t handle.” Trevor walked towards Adrian, the  _ thump thump _ of his leather boots echoing in the grand hall.

Adrian knit his brows together, “Where’s Sypha?”

“She’s putting the horse in the stable.” Trevor was now very close to him. “Don’t worry about her right now.” Trevor put his hand on Adrian’s hip and tilted his head up to Adrian’s ear. “I missed you,” he whispered.

Adrian pulled back but Trevor moved with him, slotting his thigh between Adrian’s legs. “What?” Trevor intoned with mock curiosity, “Do you think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me? The way you undress me with your eyes after a fight?” Trevor reached up to touch Adrian’s face but he caught his wrist before he made contact.

“This isn’t right”

He scoffed. “Yeah, and you made me a vampire.”

“That’s not what I mean…-  _ This _ isn’t right. How do you know where Sypha went if we just got here?”

“Don’t worry about her.” Trevor leaned forward, tried to kiss him, but Adrian pushed him away. Trevor’s expression changed instantly, destain dripping from every feature.

“Fine,” he said, rolling his eyes, and the scene once again faded to mist.

 

* * *

 

Adrian came to on the floor. The smell of Trevor’s spilled blood immediately reminded of where he was and what was really going on. He quickly scanned the room. Beside him lay Sypha, unconscious but otherwise unharmed, and further into the great hall was a figure, sitting legs crossed in a simple wooden chair.

As Adrian pushed himself to his feet the figure too stood up. He was wearing a loose fitting white shirt and tight black pants. Were those… his clothes? Adrian’s bewilderment was short-lived as he examined the man’s face and familiarity clicked into place. Light brown hair, green eyes- Aersian, the man from the village. The man he glamoured. 

Aersian rose gracefully and Adrian, now also on his feet, was able to see features of the man that weren’t as familiar. His ears were slightly pointed, his irises cat-like slits, and a serpentine tail trailed behind him.

“You’re an incubus.”

“Guilty as charged.” Aersian smiled, revealing a mouth of slightly-too-sharp teeth. Adrian called his sword to his side. It hovered above his shoulder, pointed at the demon.

“What are you doing here?” Adrian asked, voice on edge. 

“Oh, you know- aligning myself with the most powerful vampire after the fall of Dracula.” He examined a claw-like fingernail. “Carmilla sent me to the village to keep an eye on the castle for her. And on you. I saw you leave and let her know. We weren’t expecting to find your fledgling pet here, thoug.”

Adrian gritted his teeth. “I’m giving you one chance, demon. You can leave now, abandon your loyalty to Carmilla, and pray I never see you again.”

“Mm. I’m afraid I can’t do that.” Aersian raised his hand and loosed a ball of purple fire at Adrian. He dodged, but it followed him. He rolled under it and it wizzed above his head before slamming into a wall. Great, more rubble to clean up.

Adrian righted himself and pointed his sword back towards the man. As he did, though, Aersian’s image fractured. In seconds, eight Aersian’s surrounded him on all sides. He swept around defensively and sent his sword through the one directly in front of him. The image flicked out before being replaced by an identical projection.

All eight laughed in sync. Adrian closed his eyes and allowed his other senses to take over, falling back on the meditative skills his mother had taught him. With enough focus, he could sense life without the use of his sight. The eight figures slowly circled him, but he was able to pinpoint one, presumably the “real” Aersian.

Eyes still closed, Adrian sent his sword into the man’s heart. His eyes opened with the familiar  _ squick _ of metal biting into flesh. The other seven Aersian’s flickered out. The demon’s eyes were wide with shock and his hands fluttered towards his chest where Adrian’s blade was embedded, right into his heart. He opened his mouth as if to say something but the words died on his tongue as he turned to ash, Adrian’s sword clattering to the ground.

“Adrian? What…?” Behind him Sypha started to stir. 

Adrian turned to her. “Are you alright?” 

She shook her head, confused, “I’m fine… I-“

“Don’t worry about what you saw. A demon put you in a dream state.” She nodded, face bright red. Adrian picked up his sword, wiped the ash on his coat, and sheathed it. Sypha stood up slowly.

Adrian supported her as she stood. “I believe I know where Trevor is. Now that we are near I can… feel him.” Sypha nodded. “Stay vigilant.” She nodded again.

* * *

 

 

Trevor’s stomach turned, fear and hunger spiking through his system. He was struggling so hard to keep it together before, when it was just the thought of the girl’s blood. Now, the smell was assaulting him, taunting him. He was feeling less and less rational with each passing second.

His body felt alien, foreign, like he was in a dream. He stood and felt pain shoot through him, but it was muffled and distant, like it belonged to someone else. He stepped forward and the warm body in front of him scrambled back, forcing itself into a corner.’

A thought- “ _ foolish _ ”- drifted through his mind. He grabbed the creature’s arm. It squealed. The blood dripped between his fingers. He released his grasp and brought his bloodied hand towards his face. So close to his mouth, the smell overwhelmed him. He bought his palm to his lips and let his tongue snake out, lapping up the liquid.

Brilliant pain shot through his entire body, breaking him out of his fog. He stumbled back and fell towards the ground. He clutched his head and screamed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m sorry for naming my incubus OC so close to “Adrian”. I promise any headache you got from reading this chapter I had times five trying to write it.


	7. Life Eternal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, reunion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, with music-   
> https://open.spotify.com/user/demiiboy/playlist/4ryTRq6b62mzj6Ktfl7LHu?si=XOiK9CIVS8SzgezJGbc32Q

Adrian and Sypha heard a yell from deep in the castle, their brisk pace breaking into an all out run. Sypha trailed behind Adrian, who seemed to know exactly where he was going as they snaked from room to room.

By the time they reached a door, Sypha was red-faced and out of breath, but Adrian was already throwing himself at the door, trying to break it down.

“Adrian! You’re hurting yourself! Stand back,” Sypha commanded. Adrian nodded and stepped aside. Sypha raised her hands, posed her fingers, and let a fireball loose on the door.

The door splintered into a million pieces, some of which flew back at the pair. Sypha hissed as inch long fragments of wood imbedded themselves into her arms.

The scene that greeted them was… truly bizarre.

In the corner crouched a strange girl, crying and clutching her arm, trying to put as much space between herself and the door. On the ground lay Trevor Belmont, curled up into a ball and completely still.

Sypha rushed to him. “Trevor! Trevor? He isn’t breathing!” Adrian entered more cautiously.

“He doesn’t need to breathe.”

“Oh, right. But what’s wrong with him?”

Adrian crouched over his still friend and pushed up his lip with two fingers. The points of his canines were noticeably sharper than before. “He’s going to be fine, but he’s going to be very upset when he wakes up in a few hours.”

 

* * *

 

 

Trevor woke up in a familiar room with a familiar whole-body ache. He blinked at his surroundings. He was back in his room in the castle. There was a pitcher of blood and a glass on the bedside table.

“ _Gross_ ,” he thought, but still poured himself a cup and downed it. He rubbed at his forearms, the wounds still open and raw. He poured himself a second glass. He was sitting there, trying to piece together what had happened, when he heard a loud _clang, clang, clang_ from down the hall. His memory was still hazy but that clank shot panic through him. He jumped up, and rushed down the hall only to find Sypha observing seriously, with one hand on her hip, while Adrian dragged a suit of armor down the stairs.

He caught Sypha’s eyes. Her face immediately lit up.

“Trevor!” She ran up to him and threw her arms around his neck. Trevor put his hands up in surprise.

Adrian dropped his load. “Careful, Sypha.”

She looked back and shot him a death glare before returning her attention to Trevor. “I was so worried about you! Adrian could tell that you were in trouble and- and…” Her eyes welled up with tears before spilling over.

Trevor awkwardly patted her back and shot Adrian a pleading glance. He just smirked.

“What happened? Where’s Carmilla?” Trevor asked her.

She tried to speak but started blubbering again. Adrian spoke up for her. “She fled the moment she realized we took out all her guards and her pet demon. She’s vicious, yes, but she’s also a coward. She’ll probably make another rush with greater forces, but we’ll be ready for her, next time. Right now Sypha and I are just trying to get the bodies outside.” He sounded tired, his voice soft and without bite. Sypha had stopped crying, but still clung tightly to Trevor’s neck.

Trevor chewed on that information, mentally tracing backwards his steps of the last two or so days. “What about Sophie?” He asked hesitantly.

“Sophie? Oh- the girl in the basement with you.” He waved his hand. “She’s fine. Just had a cut on her arm. I glamored her to forget this whole ordeal and sent her home with some ointment.”

Relief flooded Trevor and he felt his knees go weak, but Sypha’s pressure kept him standing. Now that the panic had passed, he really got the chance to look at his companions. Adrian’s hair was tangled, his shirt torn and blood soaked. Sypha’s hair was lightly singed and dried blood flaked off her face.

Adrian resumed dragging the armored corpse down the stairs and Sypha finally detached herself from Trevor. “That is the last one.” Sypha stated firmly. She was clearly trying to be strong. “I’m sorry that we didn’t get her fast enough to save you.”

Trevor’s face creased with confusion. “What do you mean? I’m fine, Sophie’s fine- that crazy bitch wanted me to kill her, you know…” Memories flooded back to Trevor- Sophie’s blood on his hand, hunger, and unbelievable pain. He shoved his fingers in his mouth and his knuckles caught on sharp points that could definitely now be called fangs. “-Oh.”

Sypha braced herself for an outburst, tears welling up once again. Trevor stood still for a minute, let his thoughts race. He took a deep breath he didn’t need. “You know what? It’s fine. There wasn’t going to be a cure anyway.” Sypha nodded, tears spilling down her cheeks again, taking flakes of blood with them.

Adrian returned, wiping blood on his already-ruined shirt. He walked to where the pair  were talking. “That’s all of them. Let’s all get cleaned up, yes?”

They nodded, and followed Adrian up the stairs and to a spacious stone room. The walls were lined with bottles, brushes, and combs. Adrian pulled a lever and hot water poured into a large tub in the center of the room. Trevor and Sypha had both use the baths in the castle before, but never one as large. Sypha was delighted, as always.

Adrian opened a door to reveal a closet. He retrieved some towels and salve and set them down by the tub before walking towards the door.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Sypha called after him.

“Oh- just giving you your privacy. There’s another bath down the hall.”

“Nope!” Sypha stated, dragging him back in by his sleeve. “We’ve all seen each other naked before and not even you can apply salve to your own back.”

“I’m fine Sypha, I’ll heal.”

“Don’t care.”

Adrian sighed and allowed her to lead him towards the tub. She gestured for the two men to undress and she tugged her robe off over her head. She was the first into the bath, sighing with contentment as the hot water hit her sore body. Adrian followed her. Trevor stood at the side, unsure what to do. Adrian cocked an eyebrow at him and he too stepped into the water.

The water stung as it hit his wounds but it soon faded to a pleasant ache. He leaned back and closed his eyes. Sypha and Adrian were talking quietly but he let the words pass through his mind.

He felt a warm hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” Sypha said, “Let me clean you up.” Trevor nodded and felt nimble fingers in his hair and smelled something slightly floral. When she was done shampooing his hair, she dragged a sponge over his body, cleaning of the caked dirt and blood. She got a fresh cloth and dabbed at the flayed skin of his forearms. “I’ll apply some salve when your dried off.” Trevor nodded.

He watched as Sypha carefully combed through Adrian’s hair and as he extracted splinters of wood from her arm with his nails with such delicacy.

Trevor looked at his own nails, similarly sharp but not nearly as clean. He should feel revulsion, probably, and he did at some level, but watching hands like his heal mitigated that. He could remind himself that Adrian was half-human as many times as he liked, but the truth was he was a good vampire- it was not just his human heritage that made him gentle, but a deep fact of who he was.

Trevor didn’t feel nearly as different as he thought he would. He could hear Sypha’s heartbeat, sure, which was weird, but he was still himself, still held his same convictions and moral compass, though the convictions about one particular dhampir had softened.

Trevor was exhausted. This whole ordeal- from Adrian attacking him to Carmilla’s torture- was finally catching up to him.

Sypha and Adrian got out and towelled off. She considered her dirty robe for a minute before simply wrapping the towel around herself. Adrian, similarly, tied a towel around his waist. He applied small dots of salve to the puncture wounds on her arms, and allowed her to put some on his back.

She turned to Trevor and gestured for him to get out too. He obliged and she towelled him off. She fretted about the deep purple bruise on his side as Adrian applied salve to his arms and wrapped them carefully in bandages. “His ribs will be fine,” He said, “He just needs rest and… sustenance. It’s these burns I’m worried about. They should have closed by now.” Their conversation faded to murmuring about things that Trevor didn’t understand- magic, vampire biology, and all that. Adrian led him by the shoulders to a nearby bedroom and he passed out before his head even hit the pillow.

 

* * *

 

When he woke up it was night. There was another pitcher of blood by the bed.

Where was this blood coming from, exactly? Who’s was it? But those were questions for another day, when he was less hungry and in less pain. He drank almost all of it before getting up.

He was naked except for the towel that had been wrapped around him when he got out of the bath. He found a set of clothes neatly folded on a chest at the foot of the bed. The shirt was a little too tight and the pant legs a little too long, but the fabric was soft and clean, and he wasn't about to complain.

He was able to find Sypha, and by extension, Adrian, easily. They sat in the kitchen by the fire, Sypha sipping on a mug of soup. It looked rich and delicious but the smell wafting off it made Trevor slightly nauseous. They were talking intently and didn’t seem to notice Trevor’s approach.

Sypha was wearing a simple white nightgown and had a blanket wrapped around her. Trevor had never seen the gown before, so he assumed it came from somewhere in the castle.

He announced his presence with a “Does that smell as awful for you as if does for me?”

Sypha jumped slightly. Adrian turned to him. “Hello Trevor. I eat sometimes, you know. It smells fine.”

Trevor grunted and pulled a nearby chair over to where Adrian and Sypha sat by the fire. They fell quiet. Trevor absentmindedly ran his tongue over his teeth, over and over again.

Eventually, Sypha broke the silence. “We’re still going to do everything we can for you, Trevor.” Trevor rubbed his hands together

Trevor looked up and met her eyes. “Sypha, you know that-“

Sypha cut him off, “No, I refuse to give up. We can’t.”

Adrian cut in, “Sypha, he’s right, our energy would be best spent helping him ...adjust” Sypha made a face, a strange mixture of frustration and sorrow. She stood up and left the kitchen without a word.

Adrian sighed. He turned to Trevor, “She’s upset because I told her to be careful being alone with you. I think she thought that everything could just go back to the way it was, that we could pretend you were a particularly nocturnal human, and then we’d cure you and you could go back to your travels.”

“Do you think I could turn into an animal too?” Trevor interrupted him.

“What?”

“Do you think I could turn into an animal?” Trevor repeated.

“Trevor, we are trying to have a serious conversation here.”

“No, _you’re_ trying to have a serious conversation, I’m over it.” Trevor leaned back and crossed his arms.

“You’re… over it?” Adrian’s eyebrows knit together.

“Yep, ready to move on, go back to hunting.” He leaned back in his chair.

“Well, that was the plan but… you really can’t just shove all this under the rug.”

“Watch me.”

Adrian held his head in his hand. “You are the most stubborn, insufferable-“

Trevor cut in, “yeah, yeah.”

 

* * *

 

Sypha calmed down after some time and rejoined the men in the kitchen.

“Ah, thank you Sypha. Finally some articulate company,” Adrian said as she stepped in.  Trevor glared at him.

She took the same seat she vacated. She made herself comfortable and cleared her throat. “I don’t care what you two do, but I am going to keep searching for… something. Anything that might help you. The first thing that I want to do is find a way for you to walk in the sun.”

Adrian nodded, “That’s a good idea, it would be a great advantage if we could limit that weakness.”

Trevor grumbled. “Don’t think I haven’t been noticing you two talking about me like I’m not here, I’ve just been choosing not to comment.”

“Well you just commented now, didn’t you?” Adrian retorted.

Sypha scowled. “Knock it off, both of you.” She cleared her throat again. “Adrian and I were talking earlier, and we’ve decided it's important to leave at least two people either in or nearby the castle in the future. And since it’s not a good idea for you, Trevor, to go out alone yet, and because Adrian doesn’t think that we should be alone together for an extended period of time, that means that you and Adrian are going to be staying here for the foreseeable future.”

Trevor groaned. “Fine, but _you_ ,” he pointed dramatically at Adrian, “are going to teach me how to do cool vampire shit.”

“I will teach you how to do ‘cool vampire shit’” Adrian repeated. Trevor nodded sagely, as if he had just successfully negotiated a war ending treaty, will all the terms in his favor.

“I almost don't want to ask,” Trevor started, “but where have the pitchers of blood been coming from?”

“The castle has- or had, really- large coffers of human blood, kept fresh by magic,” Adrian replied, “they were low before, they're almost gone now.”

Trevor screwed up his face. “That's somehow more gross than I was imagining.”

“Beggars, choosers, and all that,” Adrian replied.

Trevor stood up. “I'm _choosing_ to ignore the fact that you're calling me a beggar. I'm feeling restless, there's more stuff that needs to be cleaned up, right?”

Adrian directed him to the great hall, where the incubus had blasted a hole in the wall, and also to an area outside the castle’s engine room where he and Sypha had taken down one of Carmilla’s men. Sypha bid them goodnight and retired to a bedroom she had taken over. With nothing better to do, Adrian took up the work that he knew Trevor would not want to do.

He started with the puddle of Trevor’s blood in the entrance hall. Trevor was there too, moving stones into piles, and dumping those piles outside, but he was decidedly ignoring the red stain.

Armed with a bucket and a mop, he looked down at the oh-so-familiar mess. Twice now he had cleaned up Trevor’s blood from this spot. The first time he had been the one who spilled it; this time it had been Carmilla, but he knew it could be traced back to him. If he hadn't attacked and turned Trevor, Adrian would have had no reason to leave the castle, to leave Trevor alone in the castle.

He splashed the water onto the floor and stated scrubbing. The red tingled water soaked into his clothes as he got down on his hands and knees, but he was wearing all black- it would not stain. There was a reason why many vampires had a clear preference for the color.

He dumped the bucked outside when he was done. The stain would never fully fade, the blood soaked into the porous stone, but he supposed that that was fitting. What he had done would never fade, and consequently, neither would Trevor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trevor Belmont: Thisisfinedog.png
> 
> Is “cool vampire shit” something someone in the 15th century would say? Probably not. Do I care? Also no. 
> 
> Fun fact: I originally was going to have Trevor kill Sophie, but I decided that was a touch too grimdark. If you paid close attention to the tags, you may have noticed the addition, then deletion, of “character death.”
> 
> If you’re frustrated with how long this is taking to get to smut- keep an eye out for my next fic, which I will be publishing as soon as I can figure out a halfway-decent title.


	8. Old Tools

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian and Trevor begin training.

Despite Trevor’s enthusiasm towards starting training with Adrian, Adrian and Sypha both insisted he take it easy for a few days until his wounds healed, and he couldn’t fight both of them on it.

They sat on Trevor’s bed as Adrian unwrapped the bandages on Trevor’s arms. He couldn’t help but wonder if Trevor’s complacency with the mandate to rest had a cause other than the man spontaneously gaining a self preservation instinct. Adrian had no idea how much he may be influencing him, in what ways, and to what extent. Trevor must know that there was a possibility he was being strongly influenced by Adrian especially now that he had fully turned, but like most unpleasant things, Trevor was choosing to ignore it. He probably wouldn't appreciate the reminder should Adrian bring it up, so he remained silent as he inspected his wounds.

The bruise on his side had faded to a green-yellow, and the lines on his throat were ultra-thin, almost invisible, but the wounds on his forearms were still troublesome. They were no longer open and seeping, but there were deep, jagged indents in Trevor’s skin, and the flesh was a deep pink and shiny. Adrian and Sypha conjectured that some combination of his extreme exsanguination, the existence of the wounds at the time of turning, or some combination of the both was impeding his healing. He was healing, but slowly and with permanent marks- like a human.

Trevor slept for most of the days. Their opposite circadian rhythms were starting to wear on Sypha, but Adrian assured her that while vampires are generally nocturnal, his need to sleep all day was a result of his healing injuries. When he was more well, he would be able to stay up with her.

Trevor and Sypha got in quality time in the transitional hours of dawn and dusk when they were both awake. Adrian tried to strike a balance of giving them their space, but remaining close enough to react if Trevor endangered her in any way. He spent most of his time one room over, or just down the hall.

The two of them sat together on a padded bench. Sypha was reading a tome from the Belmont hold, Trevor’s arm was around her and his head rested on the top of hers. Sypha would occasionally read a relevant line to Trevor, who would hum in response, clearly not paying much attention. It was a wonderfully domestic scene. Sypha was perfectly comfortable and relaxed, but Adrian could see the way Trevor’s fingers twitched, and the way he held the tension in his shoulders.

Watching this subtle display, Adrian momentarily reconsidered teaching Trevor any abilities at all. It was unsaid, but understood, that Trevor would want him to kill him if he ever attacked a person, especially Sypha. Adrian kept his sword with him, knowing he could send it through Trevor’s heart with little warning, but would he be able to if Trevor turned to mist, or if his speed outpaced his own?

He put those thoughts away. Whether he trained him or not, Trevor would get stronger. It was best for everyone that he had Adrian’s guidance.

Trevor went to sleep shortly before the sun rose, giving Sypha and Adrian some time to talk. She summarized the book she had been reading- a detailed analysis of sunlight’s effect on vampires- and Adrian listened quietly. She finished talking and the quiet stretched into an awkward silence.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “did that upset set you? That was stupid of me-“

“No Sypha, you’re fine.” Adrian interrupted, “I’ve just had a lot on my mind- the supply of blood is almost gone, and Trevor needs more if he’s going to heal.”

“Well,” she inhaled, “I could…” She trailed off.

Adrian placed his hand over hers. “I appreciate your selflessness, and I’m sure Trevor does too, but it's not a good idea for him to associate you with blood in any way.”

She let her head fall forward, her hair obscuring her eyes. “You’re treating him like a powder keg. He’s the same Trevor, I know it. He’s just as gentle and kind with me. Is it possible that you’re being too cautious?” She shifted up to look at Adrian. Her eyes were pleading.

Adrian squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, I really am, but I’m not being too cautious. I know just how cautious we need to be.” He said sheepishly. “He’s not wrong, or bad, and he is the same Trevor that we’ve known, but he’s scared, injured, and in unfamiliar situation, with unfamiliar feelings and impulses.”

Sypha sighed. “In any case, what _are_ we going to do about blood for him?”

Adrian shifted uncomfortably. “My plan had been to take a little from each of the nearby villagers and glamor them to forget, but I’m hesitant about that now, Carmilla may have embedded more than one spy among them. My blood should be able to sustain him still, and I can regenerate much faster than a human if I’m well fed. I can continue hunting animals for myself but…” he worried his lower lip. “I will need some from you.”

“Oh.” Sypha frowned. “That’s all? It’s not like you haven’t before.”

“It's… different now. We were on the road then, we had a goal in mind and a definite end. I'm not comfortable leaching off of you indefinitely.” He paused. “I’ve already hurt you so much.”

“Adrian… you saved Trevor. You gave him back to me. I get to see him, talk to him, hold his hand. If you hadn't done what you did, I would have simply never seen him again, and I can't handle the thought of that.”

“I… I don't see it that way. It's my fault that he had to be ‘saved’ in the first place. I'm the one who nearly killed him.”

“You made a mistake. That's very human of you.” Sypha smiled, though her eyes were sad.

Adrian grasped her hand with both his now, and brought it to his lips before gracing her knuckles with a soft kiss. In many ways, she was so very much like his mother.

 

* * *

 

The next evening, after Sypha went to sleep, Trevor and Adrian cleared out a large, open dining room to be a training space.

Adrian had spent the previous day combing the castle for various garments as Trevor slept. Dracula’s generals had all traveled in luxury, and in death left all their possessions in the castle, it was just a matter of finding bedrooms in the maze of hallways. He knew the general layout, of course, but many rooms had been repurposed and renovated in the year that he had slept. He managed to find several pairs of pants, shirts that weren’t too gaudy, and a pair of gloves in what he estimated to be Trevor’s size. He found some shirts for himself, for good measure. He’d ruined what- at least three shirts in the last two weeks? He had asked Sypha if she wanted anything, but she was most comfortable in her Speaker’s robe now that she’d had the chance to clean in.

Adrian could sense when Trevor woke up, and rapped lightly on his door.

“Who’sit” called a muffled voice from inside.

“It’s me. I brought some clothes that should fit you better.” Trevor grunted, and Adrian took that as permission to enter. Trevor sat up as he walked in. He was still wearing the set of Adrian’s clothes he had given him the previous night, streaked with stone dust from the cleanup.

Adrian’s face wrinkled slightly. “I know you were wearing that same set of clothes for god knows how long, but it's customary to wear a separate set of clothes to bed.”

“And I would still be wearing it if you hadn’t torn it to shreds!”  He snapped and immediately regretted it. He sighed. “I didn’t mean that. Thanks for getting me more clothes.” He gestured to the chest and Adrian set down his load and placed the gloves on top.

“Do you think you’re reading to start training?” Adrian asked.

“I’ve been ready- it’s you who’s been holding me back.”

“For-“

Trevor interrupted him. “For my own good, I know. I’m ready.”

Adrian nodded. “Meet me in the room after you get dressed. Make sure to bring the gloves.”

Trevor sat on the bed for a while and inspected the gloves. They were a soft, brown leather, finely crafted- well worn but still extremely sturdy. Unlike most gloves he’d seen, the tips came to points rather then be rounded. He discovered that within the points were metal tips- presumably to prevent vampiric claws from tearing through the material. He pulled the left one on and shivered. It fit him perfectly, like a second skin. He clenched his fist and felt how the material moved with him.

He wasn’t particularly superstitious; he didn’t believe in ghosts, or imprints of energy left on places or objects, but something about these made him uneasy. Maybe it was because, in all likelihood, he’d killed their previous owner, that they were specifically made for vampires, and that they fit him so perfectly.

He removed the left glove and set the pair down on the bed. He had a pretty good idea why Adrian had brought him them, and he hoped that his uneasy feeling would fade when he got his hands back on his weapons.

Adrian pulled on his own gloves before going to collect Trevor’s weapons. Vampire Killer and his sword were in the armory, and the Morningstar whip was in the Belmont hold. He would be lying if he said the weapon didn't make him nervous, but it was important to Trevor, and he would do whatever Trevor needed to feel normal and comfortable.

He desperately wanted Trevor to be comfortable, and seriously contemplated if that desire was creating Trevor’s calm demeanor. He wasn't sure how to feel about that- on one hand, his influence over Trevor made him feel incredibly guilty. Dirty. It was a reminder of what he was, and what he’d done to him. On the other hand- wasn't it preferable to Trevor being angry and even more dangerous? His thoughts then looped back to guilt for seeing any positive in controlling the man.

He was trapped in this vicious cycle of guilt and shame. The thought that this self-hatred may rub off on Trevor too wormed its way in- would it cause Trevor to hate him, or hate himself? He had no guidance, nowhere to turn with these questions. Not for the first time in the last few weeks, he desperately wished for his parents. His father would know, he would have been able to answer his questions, would have been able to tell him where to go from here. His mother could have eased his guilt, reminded him of his humanity, and helped Trevor reclaim his, as she had with Vlad.

The only thing that managed to break through these thoughts was a concrete task, and right now that was combat training with Trevor.

He was setting up the room when Trevor entered. He'd set the chest containing Trevor’s things in the corner and was securing some hay dummies to the far wall.

He turned when he heard the door open. It was late evening, Sypha had already gone to bed, and they were far enough from her that they should not wake her. Trevor held the gloves loosely in his left hand. He was wearing his boots, simple pants, and no shirt. Adrian chose not to comment on that. With no shirt to cover them, though, Adrian could see the shiny pink lines that criss crossed Trevor’s forearms. He felt a familiar pang of guilt but kept his face neutral.

He turned back and finished setting up the dummy.

“What,” Trevor asked, “Not going to fight me yourself?”

“There’ll be time for that, but I’m not too keen on being on the receiving end of some of your weapons.”

Trevor raised an eyebrows and Adrian nodded towards the chest. Trevor kicked it open and a satisfied smile crept over his face.

“Gloves,” Adrian called out from behind him. Right. He fumbled with them a bit- it was much easier to get the first one on than the second. As well as they fit him, they did hinder his manual dexterity somewhat. They would take some getting used to. After successfully getting both on, he tugged the chest open.

Not unlike the time he’d drunkenly discovered this chest in the armory, his weapons lay neatly inside, with the addition of the Morningstar whip. He pulled it out, relieved that the gloves indeed protected his hands.

“Be careful with that,” Adrian advised, “I know you’re quite good with it, but you’re getting used to both the gloves and your strength. A rebound could be devastating.”

Trevor scowled. Couldn’t he just let him have this moment without any reminders or warnings? He was right though, it was a devastating weapon. For now, just being able to hold it again brought Trevor some peace. He set it back in the chest. This was all going to be staying in his room from now on, he resolved.

When had he started thinking of that place as his room? Maybe it was when Sypha claimed a bedroom of her own. Yes, that’s it- it was just a convenient place for him to claim since he’s already been sleeping there. It’s not that Adrian chose the space for him to wake up in after nearly killing him.

He set those thoughts aside and picked up his old whip, Vampire Killer. It was still a formidable weapon, but far less likely to cause extreme injuries accidentally. It required a more deliberate hand.

He gave it a few experimental cracks. Adrian was right, it didn’t move in quite the way he expected it to- the force and speed behind his motions must be radically different. Adrian marked an X on the wall with chalk and instructed Trevor to try to hit it. He missed spectacularly the first few tries, but after a few minutes was able to make the subtle adjustments to get his aim back to where it was.

The hours of training blurred together. They weren’t doing anything ‘cool’ yet, just relearning things that he could do before. It was exhausting, and frustrating, and not at all what Trevor expected, though he did understand the importance of mastering ‘the basics’ and all that.

Trevor laid sprawled out on the floor. “I'm hungry” his face burned with shame.

Adrian frowned. “You should have told me earlier”

Trevor looked away “We’re out of blood, aren't we?”

Adrian nodded. “Sypha offered hers, but I told her that was ill advised. We’ve worked out a way for me to be able to provide enough of my blood for you. I know you’d rather not be dependent on me for this, or much of anything, but it's the best solution we could come up with for the time being.”

Trevor sighed. “Fine.”

“Alright, I'll go drain some then.”

“No!” Trevor called out, out stretched his arm as if to catch him, then quickly retracted it. “Its… it's gross cold. I liked it better when you…” he trailed off.

Adrian could feel his face flush with the memory of Trevor’s lips on his wrist. It was a foolish thing to have done, to have let Trevor drink from him directly like that, but at the time he’d been so desperate to keep him from starving himself.

He considered Trevor’s request. He knew he must be setting aside a monumental amount of pride to even ask.

Adrian had never been bitten before. He bit his own wrist once, out of curiosity, but that wasn't the same. Neither was limbo Trevor drinking from his self-inflicted cut. He knew, though, from observation, the effects a vampire's bite often had on the recipient. The idea of Trevor seeing him like that sent nervous shivers down his spine and made his stomach flop.

“Trevor, are you sure that’s what you want?”

“Yes. I'll hurt you if you make me beg.”

Adrian knelt beside him and Trevor propped himself up on his elbows. He began rolling up his sleeve but Trevor caught his wrist and shook his head. Oh. He caught Trevor’s eyes but Trevor quickly looked away. He wouldn't make him say it. He smoothed down his sleeve and shifted closer to him. Trevor sat up as Adrian moved

He would do anything for Trevor’s comfort, true, but there was something else nudging him forward: dark curiosity and a desire to be physically near the other man swirling and mixing together. It surprised him how much he too wanted this. Their bond went both ways in many ways, but it was unlikely that Trevor was influencing him, half human as Adrian may be. No, Adrian wanted this. He wanted Trevor’s arms around him and his lips on his skin. The realization would have knocked the air out of him had he not already been holding his breath.

He felt a cool puff of air against his bare neck. Trevor was behind him, shifting forward on his knees. Like this, he had a good foot on Adrian, as long as his torso may be.

The reversal of control scared Adrian and sent more shivers down his spine. He trusted Trevor as a person, but Trevor the vampire had yet to prove himself. Still, he steadied himself as Trevor placed his large hands on his slender shoulders.

“Don't worry about stopping, I'll stop you when you need to.” Adrian’s voice was breathy in a way he hadn't expected. He cursed himself for accidentally issuing a command, but Trevor didn't protest. Adrian felt him nod from where their hair brushed together.

Adrian reached behind his head and shifted his hair to the opposite shoulder. It was a pain to clean and took forever to dry, he'd rather it not get bloody.

He heard another aborted gasp from behind him that made his head swirl. He wanted to tell Trevor to get on with it, but bit his tongue lest he accidentally order another command.

He felt Trevor's lips hover back above his shoulder and Adrian shifted towards him as he craned his neck, trying to give off as many non-verbal signals as he could. Trevor's hands tightened on his shoulders but he didn't move.

The sensations and anticipation were making Adrian’s mind hazy but did his best to craft a non-command affirmation.

“It's alright, I want it.”

Trevor made a strange, choking sound, and Adrian gasped as sharp points slid into the joint between his shoulder and neck. The pain was sharp, and little starbursts danced behind his closed eyelids, but it quickly faded to a dull ache. Trevor shifted his arms to wrap around his torso and retracted his fangs. He quickly sealed his lips over the wound before any of Adrian’s blood could spill.

The sheer number of sensations assaulting Adrian was overwhelming: Trevor’s lips on his neck, his arms wrapped around him, his hair tickling his neck and shoulder, and the not-quite-magic-not-quite-science euphoric and paralytic effect of a vampire’s bite. Tension left his body, his arms falling limply to his sides and his eyes slid closed. He was quickly becoming lightheaded and a little overwhelmed.

He could feel Trevor’s pleasure and satisfaction through their bond, further adding to the cacophony of sensory input. Adrian resisted the impulse to let the feeling swallow him- he needed to stay present to stop him when the time came. A time that was rapidly approaching gauging by his mounting lightheadedness. Adrian hummed slightly and Trevor growled, gripping him even tighter. Adrian took a deep breath. No struggling, Trevor was operating on instinct, verbal command only.

“St- Stop.”

Trevor released him immediately, grip loosening and his weight shifting backwards.

Adrian pressed a hand to the leaking wound.

“Shit.” Trevor stood up. “Do you need anything?” His pupils were blown and his face was red.

Adrian remained on the floor, steading himself with his free hand. He didn’t trust his legs quite yet. “Bandages. Closet on the left.”

Trevor silently retrieved the requested item and knelt down next to Adrian. He was acting uncharacteristically shy, not making eye contact or a single wisecrack. Adrian used the bandages to clean the excess blood and press on the wound until it stopped bleeding. It wouldn’t need to be dressed, he would heal faster than he could wrap it at this angle anyway.

Trevor sat next to him silently as he did this. He set the soiled bandages aside. “Closed?” Adrian asked, pointing his shoulder towards Trevor. He nodded and stood back up.

“Do you need anything else?” Trevor asked. He look positively embarrassed.

Adrian shook his head, laughing dryly. “Maybe just a hand up.”

Trevor reached his hand out and Adrian took it, pulling himself up. He wasn’t quite as unsteady as he expected, but he did wobble slightly.

“Are you okay?” Trevor asked, chewing on his lip slightly.

“I’m fine, Trevor. You really don’t need to worry about me.”

“Right, sure.”

“More training tomorrow?” Adrian asked, hoping to deflect the awkwardness in the air.

“Right,” Was all Trevor replied.


	9. Old Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unsurprisingly, Trevor is not alright.

Shit. Shit shit shit. Trevor couldn’t believe he’d done that. “‘ _It’s gross cold_ ’ are you fucking _kidding_ me!” It’s blood. It’s supposed to be gross. It was supposed to be bad and disgusting and he was supposed to hate it and loathe himself but that… that was far from bad. It was amazing, actually.

Adrian’s skin was soft, not at all what you’d expect of a warrior, and he was warm- not as warm as Sypha, but warm enough. He tasted like everything alcohol was supposed to- warm, soothing, and _right_. It had felt so right. However, rather than increasing his self control as the cooled blood in jugs had, he could feel it slipping slightly. He wanted to do that again, and again, for eternity. 

It made him want to hide out for the rest of eternity in his room. It made him want to seek Adrian out again immediately. 

There was still some time before Sypha would wake up, and Adrian was off doing god knows what in the forest surrounding the castle. Trevor tried to distract himself by dragging the chest with his weapons from the training room to his bedroom. The inconvenience of having to bring what he wanted down with him was far outweighed by his desire to not be caught with only a broken chair leg again. 

Distressingly, he found the task much easier than he anticipated, despite the castle’s many stairs, and it did little to distract him from his thoughts. He felt strong, stronger than he ever had, and it should have scared him.

He maneuvered the chest beside his bed, turning the opening towards the mattress. Maybe he was being a bit paranoid- another rude awakening was highly unlikely, especially with both Adrian and Sypha there- but he couldn’t deny that he felt better with at least one of his weapons at hand.

His life had been so far derailed from normalcy that it wasn’t that they made him feel human- far from it, with the care he had to take to even hold them- but something further back- lonely nights on the road as a teenager, humans and monsters equal threats, sleeping with a knife in his grasp. 

He’d kicked the habit, unfortunately, after traveling with Adrian and Sypha and then just Sypha- having another person to rouse him meant he was comfortable with his weapons stashed away, knowing he’d have warning should he need them in the night. 

He had Adrian and Sypha again now, of course, but not in the same space, like those shared campfires and inn rooms. No, Sypha was down the hall and Adrian… he wasn’t actually sure where, or even if, Adrian slept.

He considered what to do next. He was far too distracted to read, and he didn’t want to wake Sypha for a few more hours. He thought about going for a walk in the woods, but didn’t particularly want to run into Adrian quite yet. He compromised, and headed towards the Belmont hold- it was as large as the forest, and nearly as easy to get lost in.

In his time alone, Adrian had built a small stone structure around the opening to keep out the rain and locked with an iron padlock to keep out simple looters. They all planned to work on a new magical seal, but such things had been set aside to deal with more pressing matters. Adrian had also built simple stairs, narrow but sturdy, leading down into the depths. Alone as he was now, Trevor understood: when one doesn't sleep, one must find something to fill the time. 

He took a torch down with him, Sypha’s flames having long since gone out, “It’s dangerous for the books!” She had protested, extinguishing the hold’s thousands of candles with a sweep of her arm each time she ascended. Trevor quickly discovered, though, that he could see much farther than the reach of the torchlight. Right, night vision- he extinguished the torch and left it in an empty sconce. 

With his hands free, he rubbed at his forearms. The skin was a healed as it was going to be, but the muscle underneath ached. It ached every time he moved, a constant and unpleasant reminder of those horrible few days. Massaging his forearms like this did seem to help a little, so he squeezed them up and down as he walked. It had become somewhat of a nervous habit, but it did tangible help relieving the pain. 

He’d been down here a mere week ago when Adrian left to retrieve Sypha, but the space felt so different. It was the same of course, with the exception of a few books Sypha had grabbed, it was him that was different. He leaned on a handrail and surveyed the ocean of stacks. It didn’t look quite like it was illuminated, but he could make out the edge of every shape, and even read the titles of books (in the languages he could read) farther than he could have even with the brightest sunlight before. 

The hopes and dreams of countless generations of Belmonts had gone into this collection, a dream of a world free from monsters, free from the need of such a hunter clan, and what had it come to? One last son, now a vampire. No one to bequeath the name, a library that would slowly rot, and knowledge that would be lost to time just like Lisa’s medicines.

The obvious thought struck him, blindsiding him with its clarity. He hadn’t considered the immortality aspect of vampirism much yet, too consumed with the more immediate issues, but the Belmont name would live on, because he would. As years passed and memory faded- how long before Belmont was no longer the name of a disgraced noble family, but of a single man? 

He supposed The Church had been right, the separation of hunter and monster was a thin line, easily obliterated. How easily had he embraced Adrian Tepes, son of Vlad Drakul Tepes today? How eagerly had he taken in his tainted blood? Standing here, he represented everything The Church accused his family of, everything they knew that they could become. 

Had he been the sole survivor just to prove God’s chosen people right? 

He sank to his knees, hands still gripping the railing. If only anyone else had been the one to escape the fire. Anyone else would have been stronger, even his sweet baby sister. His rational brain told him such thoughts were nonsense, that none of his kin would have done anything different, or if they had, such as killed Adrian in Gresit, they would have only brought greater tragedy, but so many years of carrying the Belmont name alone made him feel personally responsible.

He let himself cry for the first time that he could remember. He cried for Sypha, for the children they would never have, it didn’t matter that neither of them felt that way about each other, he cried anyway. He cried for his parents, whose death had been so cruel, he cried for his younger siblings and cousins, who never even got the chance to live, and he even allowed himself to cry for himself and the pain, both physical and mental, that his body still held from his brief but extreme captivity. 

When his tears dried, he slowly got back up. He promised Sypha that he would spend time with her today, but he was absolutely exhausted. He ascended the staircase slowly, the strength and pep he felt before seemed to have faded with his spirits. He probably had some time before Sypha woke up, if he tried to sleep for a little now. 

 

* * *

 

Adrian didn’t stray far from the castle. He doubted Trevor would wake Sypha, but the forest was rich with prey so there was simply no need to go far. Within an hour he’d caught two rabbits in his wolf form, snapping their necks as quickly as he could before draining them. Animal blood was fine, it wasn’t repulsive to him as it was to most full vampires, but it also wasn’t particularly delectibe. He brought the small bodies back with him- the meat was still good, and he didn't want it to go to waste. Sypha would need it.

Halfway back to the castle, he felt an overwhelming wave of anger and sadness. He paused and just let himself feel for a moment. It was obviously an emotion from Trevor, but it was not tinged with any hatred or fear, so he was not in danger just… upset. He considered seeking him out to make sure but… he himself was most likely the reason for these feelings, so it was probably best to give him some space, for the time being. 

He tried to not bring his own feelings into the matter- because he was the perpetrator and Trevor and Sypha his victims, his feelings were irrelevant-  but it did hurt that it seemed like everything he did was wrong. He made the wrong choice turning Trevor, wrong choice leaving him alone to get Sypha, wrong choice protecting Sypha from him, wrong choice letting him drink from him, apparently. It made him wonder how much alcohol it would take to get himself drunk. More than the castle currently held, he calculated.

When he got back to the castle, he headed straight for the kitchens and set on preparing the rabbits. He expertly skinned and deboned them. The meat was somewhat dry, so he decided on cooking them into another stew. There were plenty of recipe books around, but stew had been a favorite growing up, and he knew the basic recipe by heart. He would have to send Sypha for some more fresh vegetables soon, but he had enough flour, potatoes, and herbs to make something that she would like well enough. Years on the road with the Speakers meant that she wasn’t exactly a gourmet, but she could a little picky about stew.

Cooking for Sypha was relaxing. He looked forward to her waking up and commenting on how good it was smelling, warning her to not taste it yet because the meat wasn’t cooked through, and her face when she eventually did get a bowl. The thought made him smile.

As risky as it was for her to be here, and despite the terrible burden that his departure had caused, he was extremely glad that Sypha was around. She kept him grounded, kept him feeling human and sane. She made the castle walls almost feel like home again. Almost. 

He heard the front door open and knew it was Trevor returning from the hold. Adrian remained in the kitchen, watching the broth bubble. Trevor could easily seek him out if he wanted to- he would leave the choice up to him.

He heard Trevor's distinctive boot falls pass right past the kitchen door and continue down the hall towards the bedrooms. Adrian sighed. Things were so much easier when he couldn't feel Trevor's emotions. He could have guessed that he was an angry man, that much was clear, and he could see the sadness in his eyes from the day they met, but feeling the balance tip into despair felt like tendrils winding around his heart and squeezing.

When had he started to care so much about Trevor Belmont? He had be telling himself it was purely out of duty, that caring about Trevor was his penance for turning him, but if that was the case, he wouldn't be wishing to comfort him now when he was clearly no danger. He wouldn't want to hold him, to gently wipe his tears away, to show him how to be happy again.

No, this was far more than duty. 

 

* * *

 

Trevor knew Adrian was in the kitchen. He always had a vague idea of where he was- psychic bond and all that- but he could have guessed his location from the overpowering odor of cooking meat. He walked passed as quickly as he could, not wanting to linger near the smell or for Adrian to see him like this. 

He headed towards the bath first. He didn't understand the mechanisms,  but he did know what levers to pull for cold water to spill out onto his hands. He splashed the water on to his face, not caring that it soaked into his shirt. There was a mirror above the sink- “backed with tin, not silver!” Sypha had explained, “it's only silver mirrors that hide vampire’s reflections.” Indeed, Trevor did see his own face staring back at him. His hair was damp and fell into his eyes, but as he pushed it back all his familiar features came into focus. 

He reached out to touch the cool surface. He traced his scars and the faint lines on his face, examined his nose and slightly-asymmetrical eyes. He didn't spend too much time in front of mirrors, but it was the same face he frequently glimpsed in puddles and panes of glass.

He opened his mouth and got his first good look at his teeth since turning. He ran his finger along the ivory points, feeling their strength and sharpness. 

Alone in a windowless room, he might as well be in his own universe, and in this universe these were only teeth. Removed from the long history of terror and violence, there was nothing disturbing about these teeth. They were just weird, and awkward, and would make eating corn a nightmare. Removed from the long history of his family, there was nothing wrong him having these teeth, nothing wrong with him wrapping his arms around Adrian Tepes and drinking from him, willing as he was.

None of that history existed here. It only continued to have influence because he allowed it- he gave the memories power. He wouldn't be controlled by ghosts anymore. He refused. 

He couldn't entirely forget his duty to his family name, but maybe for a while, he could… put it aside. Let it rest in the background, for the benefit of today.

Today Sypha will wake up, and he’ll sit with her as she eats, politely tolerating the smell.  They will talk, and she will read and he will listen. They'll banter as they did, and maybe he could even pull Adrian in. 

Adrian. Their next meeting would be awkward, but not as awkward as avoiding him, and he would rather push through the awkwardness now than let it fester. He patted off his hair with a towel, gave his reflection one last glance to check for any tear stains or redness, and left the bathroom.

 

* * *

 

Adrian sensed Trevor’s approach far before he reached the kitchen door, but he had the manners to look surprised when he entered.

“Trevor! Hello.” He placed the ladle on a hook and covered the pot with a lid.

Trevor hovered awkwardly just inside the doorframe. “Hey.”

Adrian paused. “There's no good way to say ‘sit down’ without it sounding like an order, but you don't have to stay over there if you don't want to.”

“Thanks,” Trevor said, taking his usual chair by the fire. Adrian got up and took his seat too. 

“Are you doing alright?” Adrian asked as casually as possible. 

Trevor’s face burned. “I'm alright. I had a… tough moment today but I think I'm passed it.” He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“Do you want to talk about earlier?” 

Trevor face reddened further. “Is there much to say?”

“I suppose not, but I know something upset you and- Trevor- I'm pretty sure almost anything you could be wrestling with right now, I've struggled with too.” 

Trevor shifted again. “I'm not sure that's true.”

“Just because I was born and not made-”

“It's not that.” Trevor interrupted.

“What is it then?”

Trevor was getting visibly frustrated, shifting more in his seat. Adrian was at a loss. Trevor was struggling with having turned, craving blood, forsaking his family name- all things Adrian could relate too, right? Trevor may just not want to talk about it but… there was something else.  He wanted him to open up but if he pushed too hard he knew he would clam up. 

“Sorry,” Adrian said before Trevor could reply. “It's not my business.”

“I liked it, okay!” Trevor snapped. He stood abruptly.

Adrian's eyes widened in surprise. What was this about?

“Feeding from you, I liked it a lot!” He continued.

“Trevor that's not surprising-” he started to stand but Trevor pushed him back into his seat with a hand on his shoulder. Adrian allowed himself to be pushed.

“No, you don't understand.” Trevor gritted his teeth.

“I really think I do-”

“I don't think you do, Alucard.”

That knocked the wind out of him. He couldn't distinctly recall the last time Trevor had called him that- they went so quickly from “vampire” and “floating jesus” to “Adrian,” with very little “Alucard” in between.

“Tell me, then.” Adrian challenged. He looked up to meet Trevor’s eyes but before he could Trevor placed his hands on either side of his face and pulled. He felt Trevor's skin on his and he was… kissing him? Yes- Trevor Belmont was kissing him. Shock made his reactions sluggish. Trevor’s scratchy beard tugged against his skin and lips were slightly chapped. Adrian almost kissed him back but a wave of guilt crashed down on him

He pushed back against him. “No…” Adrian got out. As Trevor moved back, Adrian got a look at his face; it was streaked with confusion and hurt.

Trevor stood up straight and turned away. He looked as if he was going to leave but Adrian caught his wrist. 

“It's not that- it's not you, Trevor.” Trevor looked back at him. “You… you may not be acting of your own will. I'm… I'm worried that you're only doing this because of my influence.”

Trevor's face burned with anger now. “Don't tell me what I do and don't feel.” 

“That's not- I'm not telling you want to feel just that-”

“Just that I may not really be feeling it.”

“Well, yes.”

Trevor tugged at where Adrian held on his wrist, but Adrian didn't budge.

“Let me go,” he growled.

“No, listen to me,” Adrian cringed at yet another unintentional command, but kept going, “I only stopped you because I _care about you_ _Trevor_. And I care about Sypha, and I don't want you to do something that would hurt both of you because of some fucked up influence I can't control.” He paused to let Trevor speak but he remained silent, staring at him intensely. “Sorry, you can stop listening now,” he added.

“Sypha knows.”

“What?”

“ _Sypha knows._ ” 

Now it was Adrian's turn to be at a loss for words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I worked in the Alucard name drop :D
> 
> This isn't going to be a never ending angst fic- I promise!
> 
> My favorite thing about these three characters is that they each represent characteristics that every person shares- making them incredibly easy to project upon. So Sypha gets penchant for my book conservation, Trevor gets my chronic pain in my hands/arms, and Adrian gets… everything else.


	10. New Skills

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian has an idea that may free Trevor.

Now it was Adrian's turn to be at a loss for words.

Trevor once again pulled at where Adrian held him. Adrian released him, but Trevor didn't take off like he expected. Instead he stayed in place, meeting Adrian’s eyes.

“‘Sypha knows?’ Sypha knows what?” Adrian asked finally.

Trevor turned away slightly but still didn’t leave.

“Sypha… she and I- we- well…” Trevor huffed. “It’s complicated, but let’s just say that marriage wasn’t exactly in the picture for us even before… I love her though! Just not… like that.”

Adrian hummed in acknowledgment. “I see… do you mind I- need some time to think about all this.”

“Yeah, fine, okay. Can I leave now or are you going to grab me again?”

“Sorry. No, I won’t.”

“Good, good,” Trevor turned away finally and disappeared through the doorway. Adrian sat back down in his chair.

Nothing was going to be nice and simple in his life ever again, was it?

 

* * *

 

Trevor retreated back to his room to wait for Sypha to wake up.

That hadn't gone… quite as bad as it could have. He was mortified, of course. He himself hadn't expected to _kiss_ Adrian until right before it happened just… talk about things. But in that moment he was frustrated, Adrian wasn't listening to him, and it served the dual purpose of shutting him up and making him understand.

The fact that Adrian thought that he was only acting out his subconscious desires, by Trevor’s consideration, meant that Adrian, in some way, felt the same. As disastrous as a rejected kiss could be, that was reassuring. His initial (quiet) panic was fading.

He supposed he had his own thinking to do. Adrian insisted that these feelings weren't his own, but that just wasn't right, it couldn't be. There was a certain… lack of inhibition at play, yes, but looking back at their time on the road, and his decision to visit the castle alone in the first place, his feelings were undeniable, despite how much he was denying them himself at the time.

Then, any flush, quickening of pulse, or tightness in his chest Trevor had written off as the result of that seductive vampiric nature of the man he was forced to travel with. Like that, it was easy to write those feelings off, and damn them as the unholy power of a monster he’d formed a pact of convenience with.

Sypha knew. She’d always known. They both tried to play house, and while she was truly the woman he wanted to spend his life with, sexual intimacy wasn't a part of that relationship. They both grappled with it and came to terms with it, and they were stronger for it- especially when she met that cute herbalist woman.

Adrian said that it was his subconscious influence that was drawing him to him. Trevor was willing to give some agency to Adrian’s blood; it seemed to lower his inhibitions and was definitely an excuse to get physically closer to him than they ever had been before.

Trevor groaned. He was never going to be able to drink cold blood again. He was tainted, spoiled, like someone for whom all food turned to ash in his mouth after tasting the food of the fey- and that meant doing _that_ again, over and over, at least every few days.

The idea sent electricity up his spine, which he regarded with annoyance. He needed to cool it- that was the only way to prove to Adrian that he was indeed fully in control of himself, his emotions, and his feelings. Go back to routine, go back to training, _feed from Adrian every few days_ , but otherwise back off.

If there was anything he knew for sure about himself, was that he could do just about anything he set his mind to (though, for most of his life, that was just ‘survive another day’), but this felt like a momentous task.

His emotions finally settled into familiar irritation at the fact that Adrian didn’t trust him.

After some time spent stirring in his frustration, he could hear Sypha begin to stir from a few rooms over- a slow increase in the speed of her pulse, the swish of sheets being moved around. He was getting used to his supernatural hearing, getting better at tuning out background noise, but it was still extremely strange.

When he opened his door, Adrian was already down the hallway, nearing on her door.  Trevor must have so focused on the soft sounds of Sypha’s awakening that he missed what should have been the very obvious sounds of footfalls. Or maybe the bastard was floating just above the stones to mask the sounds of his movement. Either way, he surprised Trevor.

Adrian’s back was to him, and Trevor loudly cleared his throat.

Adrian turned around with such poise and grace. It annoyed Trevor, he was just showing off, now. “Trevor, do you mind? I need to talk to Sypha privately for a moment.”

“Why?”

“That’s not really your business, but if she agrees you’ll know, and if she does not, it won’t matter.”

“Way to be cryptic.”

Adrian pressed his hand to his forehead. Trevor smirked. This back-and-forth was familiar, comfortable.

Trevor turned his back to him. “Whatever, I’ll find something to do.”

“Don’t go to far, I don’t think this will take long.” Adrian called after him. Trevor visibly flinched and froze in place. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that. This will not take long, but you can go as far as you please.”

Trevor harrumphed and continued on his way.

Adrian turned back to Sypha’s door, silently cursing the linguistic conventions that made suggestions near inseparable from commands- no wonder older vampires spoke in strange, circumspect ways.

He rapped lightly on the door.

“Yes?” Sypha called from inside.

“Are you decent?” He asked.

Light, fluttering laughter answered him. “Does it matter?”

Adrian shuffled bashfully. “I believe it is still polite to ask, no matter the state of undress one has seen before.”

“I’m dressed.” Sypha answered.

Adrian pushed open the door. Sypha hovered near the mirror in the room, brushing her hair without much care. “What is it?” She asked, setting the brush down on the vanity.

“I was wondering if you would be willing to be a… training subject, of sorts for Trevor.”

She frowned. “What does that mean, exactly?”

“Well…” Adrian sat down on the room’s upholstered chair. “As you know, vampires have the ability to exert short-term control over humans, known as glamour or compulsion. The process of doing this is much more about controlling one’s own mind than the mind of others. The power I have over Trevor due to our bond is slightly different- this ‘influence’ is subconscious, on both our parts. I have a theory that if Trevor could master compulsion, he could remove himself from my influence.”

“And you'd like for him to practice on me?”

“Yes- to start. I know it's a lot to ask, but I can guarantee it will not go beyond simple ‘stand here’ or ‘sit down’ commands.”

Sypha crossed her arms. “I trust Trevor.”

“You’ll do it, then?”

“I'll try, but I reserve the right to call it off.”

“Of course.”

She sat down on her bed, facing Adrian. “I’m hesitant to believe the solution is this simple, though. From what I've read, a vampire sire’s control on their fledglings is long lasting and enduring, and glamour a common skill.”

Adrian shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Well, compulsion is not often taught to very young vampires. There is a belief that they do not yet possess the self control to wield it responsibly. And, by the time a sire may teach it, they will most definitely have… other means of control over their charge.”

“Oh.” Sypha fidgeted with the hem of her sleeve.

Adrian cleared his throat. “Do you still want to go through with this? You look uncomfortable.”

“Yes!” Sypha interjected, a little to loudly. “I mean, I’ll do whatever Trevor needs to feel more normal.”

“Well, this certainly won’t make him feel ‘normal’ short term, but hopefully the long term result will be worth it. I haven’t actually asked him yet.”

Sypha frowned. “Why not?”

“I wanted to ask you first. I have a feeling he is not going to like this idea, and if you were to say no, it would be best that I never brought it up at all.”

“Would you like for me to ask him instead?”

Some of the tension left Adrian’s shoulders. “Yes, I would, thank you. He’s probably not very happy with me right now- I accidentally ordered him on my way in.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“Maybe so, but fault and intentions doesn’t change how upsetting it is for him to be under my control.”

“Well, hopefully he’ll be able to break that control with my help.” Sypha’s face was soft and understanding.

“Hopefully,” Adrian replied.

 

* * *

 

In as dark of a hallway as he could find, Trevor sulked.

He asked himself why he was even bothering to prove anything to Adrian- all he was going to do was jerk him around (as unintentional as it may be) and keep things from him. He didn’t really need his affection, and he sure as hell didn’t need his approval to come and go as he pleased.

Even if he wanted to, though, he couldn’t exactly pick up and leave. He needed Adrian. He needed him for protection, needed him to teach him, and even needed his blood to survive in a way that wouldn’t kill anyone. His complete and utter dependence on the man would have repulsed him just a few short months ago. He’d built his entire adult life on remaining as free and independent as possible by rejecting any comfort that came with ties- ties that would make him even slightly dependent on or indebted to another person. He felt those instincts clawing at him.

As much as Adrian may piss him off on occasion, though, he was safe here, with him and Sypha. The castle was weird as hell, but he hadn’t had to sleep in the rain or even on the floor since he’d been here. Sypha was safe and comfortable here, too. She had said the castle could be cold, but she had no issues keeping a roaring fire in whatever room she may be in.

She wouldn’t be happy here forever, though. She was a Speaker at heart, and settling down in one place would never be part of her nature. That would leave him and Adrian alone together in the castle indefinitely.

He didn’t want to go down that mental rabbit hole. Focusing on being pissed off was simpler.

With some guidance from Adrian, Sypha found where Trevor was sulking.

“He wants me to what?!” Trevor sputtered.

“Please at least give it a try. He thinks if you’re able to master this skill, you may be able to free yourself from his influence. He wants that just as much as you do, I swear.”

“Master mind control…” he muttered.

“Glamour,” She corrected.

“Same difference,” Trevor sighed and crossed his arms in front of him. “I’m not going to pretend I’m comfortable with this, but if you think it’s worth a try, I will.”

“I’m not entirely comfortable with it either, but I trust you and Adrian implicitly. I wouldn’t agree if it were anyone else.”

Sypha’s assertion of trust sent equal parts warmth and guilt churning in Trevor’s core. He couldn’t help but feel it was misplaced.

When he took too long to respond, Sypha grabbed his hand. “Come on,” She said, dragging him down the hallway behind her. Trevor smiled.

 

* * *

 

When he thought about it, Trevor wasn’t exactly sure why, but they all knew to meet in the training room. This wasn’t psychic vampire bullshit, but a mutual understanding to keep psychic vampire bullshit contained to this space they had set aside as much as possible. Clear boundaries.

There were no chairs, but the three of them made themselves comfortable on the mats that lined the floor, sitting in a tight circle. The memory of the last time he’d been on the floor of this room with Adrian wormed its way into Trevor’s head, and he tried to will the flush that crept up his face and neck away.

Adrian broke the awkward silence that permeated the room. “Alright- ground rules. Sypha, do you consent to Trevor attempting to make you move not of your own volition?” Sypha nodded. “Right, Trevor- if you try to make Sypha do anything else, I will stop you.” Trevor made an indignant noise but nodded as well. “With that out of the way, as I mentioned, the act of glamour or compulsion involves narrowing your focus to a point, and that point being the person in front of you and what you want them to do. Sypha will try to remain still and you should try to get her to move her right arm.”

Trevor reached out and grabbed Sypha’s left hand. The contact wasn’t necessary, but the affirmative squeeze back she gave him settled his nerves greatly. He met her eyes. Their vibrant blue was breathtaking this close. He chided himself _‘focus!’_

He didn’t exactly know what to do. He was hoping some greater instinct would kick in and guide him, but no inspiration came. He next tried what Adrian had said- narrowing his focus. Focusing so intensely on Sypha was something that he had been avoiding, though. The rush of her blood was unavoidable. He could feel the vibration of her heart in the air. He could feel his eyes going unfocused and glassy. He snapped back to himself and redoubled his concentration.

Sypha’s blood was enticing, but it was not her physical form he needed to grasp, but her core essence- her soul or her mind, whichever one may prefer. He focused on her eyes, tried to see through them, not just into them, and he felt the world around them fade away.

They were alone in the world, two minds. There was nothing else. He maintained an awareness of his surroundings- he could see Adrian to his left, Sypha in front of him, and the walls around them but it was faded, like a desaturated overlay.

He held them like this for a moment. The disconnect from the physical, this void, was peaceful. Eventually though, he had to move forward. He still didn’t quite know what to do, so he reached out for the form that was Sypha and moved her right arm up.

He watched Sypha move her arm correspondingly, then quickly snap is back down. As she jerked her arm back, Trevor’s concentration shattered and the brightness of his surroundings flashed.

He sat, stunned, for a second, before remembering where he was and what he’d just done.

Sypha held her wrist with her other hand. Trevor hadn't even noticed her breaking their touch.

“Are you alright?” Trevor asked her.

Her breathing was a little faster than normal. “I’m fine, I just panicked, I think. I'll be fine in a second.”

“I believe that's because he only made you move, instead of making you want to move” Adrian's voice startled Trevor a little, as focused on Sypha as he has been. Adrian continued, “that's fine, for now, and is technically exactly what we asked of you, Trevor.”

“I live to please,” Trevor drawled.

Adrian ignored this, but turned to him and asked, “how are you feeling? Are you up for more?”

Trevor took stock of himself. “Not really. I'm wiped.” _And hungry_ he didn't add.

“Not surprising, that must have used a lot of energy. I wasn't actually expecting you to have any sort of success on the first try.”

Sypha interjected, “I'm alright now. I'll be better prepared next time, I'll know what to expect and it shouldn't catch me off guard like that again.”

“Shall we call it a day, then?” Adrian asked them both. They nodded in sync.


	11. Familiar Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio get a surprise visitor.

Now that his physical injuries had healed, Trevor had no issues staying up all day and forgoing sleep altogether. He considered that this might be a drain, might be making him hungrier faster, but decided that keeping occupied was more important.

During the day, when Sypha was awake, he practiced glamour with her under Adrian's supervision. By the end of the week, he could have her walk across the room before she broke the trance. 

At night, Adrian, also forgoing sleep, offered to train with him, but Trevor found he preferred physical training alone. His movements were still clumsy, miscalculated, and he was embarrassed- not that he'd ever tell Adrian that. It was easy enough to just say he needed space. Adrian always respected that. 

He found himself to be rather adept at slashing through the hay dummies using only the metal tips of his gloves. Unlike with his whip, it didn't matter if he underestimated the speed or force behind an attack- like this he still met his mark. 

Still, he devoted most of his time to retraining himself on his whip. It was his most versatile and important weapon, effective at all ranges, not just for wounding, but for possibly deescalating if he could get a strong enough grip on his opponent’s weapon. And it was a part of him, a part of his legacy: he wouldn't give up on either Vampire Killer or the Morningstar whip just because there was something easier or more convenient. 

The utility of his bare hands being powerful weapons was comforting, though. Even if he couldn't get to his conveniently placed chest, he was guaranteed to never wake up unarmed again. 

That is, if he ever slept again. 

Those first few days after he was rescued ( … or whatever) exhaustion had claimed him, preventing him from thinking much about the action of falling asleep or the consequence of then having to wake up. Now, though, panic seized him the moment he came to from sleep until he could remember where and when he was- that he was safe, that there were no vampire soldiers ready to burst into his room. The anticipation of this panic haunted him when he considered sleep. It was easier to forgo the process. 

Lost in thought, Trevor’s concentration slipped and the tip of his whip caught his left arm. Curses filled the training room space. He set the weapon down and removed his gloves.

Through the crisscross of pink scar tissue on his forearms, he now had a few inch long laceration. It hurt like hell, but wasn't bleeding, and he could see where his skin was regrowing along the edges. A little more slowly than he would like, but enough to know that he’d be fine. 

It was a good sign to call it a night, though. Not wanting to put his gloves back on, he left Vampire Killer on the floor of the training room. 

It was early evening. Sypha was still awake, reading by firelight. Adrian was somewhere, doing something. Annoyingly, their bond doesn't go both ways equally, and where Adrian always knew where he was, he only knew where Adrian was when he wanted him to, subconsciously or not. 

Trevor tucked his gloves into his belt as he made his way to the study where Sypha was reading. He pulled his shirt sleeve down, covering his healing wound. The last thing Sypha needed was more reasons to worry about him. 

He must have been moving more quietly than he intended to, because Sypha was still fully immersed in her book when he reached the study. He leaned in the doorway. He loved watching Sypha read. She was peaceful, but her brow wrinkled slightly in concentration. It was cute. 

He cleared his throat and Sypha snapped up to look at him. 

“Oh! Hello. Do you need something?” Sypha closed her book, setting it down beside her. The cover had an embossed depiction of a large sun and a figure cowering away from it. 

“No, just didn't want to startle you. Shouldn't you be getting to bed?”

Sypha rubbed her eyes. “Probably, but I feel like I'm so close to a break through! I need to find a way to help you, in any way I can.”

Trevor offered his hand to her and she accepted, pulling herself up. “It's not like I don't have eternity, you need rest.”

Sypha flushed and looked away, dropping his hand. They barely made it out of the study before Trevor felt panic wrap around his heart and squeeze. 

He was suddenly acutely aware of where Adrian was- he was in the grand entrance hall, and he was calling out for Trevor. 

He grabbed Sypha. “Something’s wrong.” He quickly took stock of himself. He had his gloves tucked into his belt and his short sword in its scabbard at his side, but he’d left his whip in the training room and the Morningstar whip was in his room. What he had would have to be good enough. 

“What? Where?” Sypha asked, her eyes wide. 

“Don't know. Entrance Hall.”

The two of them took off down the hallway. Trevor effortless guided them through the many twists and turns between them and Adrian. 

The smell of blood hit Trevor far before he could see what was happening. It was familiar, but not Adrian's. He couldn't quite place it, nor did he have time to ponder as he raced forward. 

Sypha was winded by the time they reached the last door, but Trevor pushed forward, nearly removing the door from its hinges- just because he couldn't smell Adrian's blood didn't mean he wasn't injured or in serious danger. 

Two figures hunched just inside the entrance, and Trevor’s familiarity immediately clicked into place. Beside Adrian stood a woman, bleeding from a wound on her side. His night vision may be devoid of color, but the woman whom Adrian was supporting, whose blood was soaking his shirt, Trevor would never forget. It was her blood that has turned him. Her blood Carmilla wanted him to spill. 

Sophie.

Sypha raced ahead to support Sophie’s other side. Trevor remained in the doorway, stunned and struck by indecision. Now identified and in his sight, the smell of blood hit him full force, so much stronger than it had before, in that cellar. Before, he was ignorant, operating solely on instinct, now, though, he knew exactly what it was like to sink his teeth into a live body. And oh- she would be so much warmer. Her heartbeat was strong and it would just push the blood into his mouth, sate his thirst, ease his pain- though now her heartbeat was efficiently pumping her blood to the stone tile. 

This was bad. This was very very bad. He could feel his self-control slipping _.  _ It took all of his will to remain fixed in place, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the scene in front of him. 

Adrian must have noticed him, paralyzed there. “Trevor!” Adrian called out. 

Trevor snapped out of his trance and fixed his gaze on Adrian, shocked and wide-eyed.

“You should go get some bandages,” Adrian said firmly.

Right. Bandages. Not here. It wasn’t a command, but he could pretend it was, allow it to steer him away from this place and this situation. He turned away. The smell of Sophie’s blood followed him down the hallway and threatened to pull him back. 

He pushed forward. Bandages. Where the hell were bandages? He stopped in the middle of the hallway. He had no idea where they may be. Adrian or Sypha had always brought them to him while he was healing.

He once again cursed the dependence he’d grown so comfortable with. Towels would have to do- he darted to the nearest bath and grabbed an armload. 

He swallowed heavily at the prospect of returning. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Even in the dull metal he could see his irises rimmed by bright red. He pressed the ball of his hands deep into his eye sockets until he saw stars, trying to will his reaction to the blood away. 

He he withdrew his hands glanced once again at the mirror. No change. He cursed himself for wasting time here when a girl was bleeding out. He had no choice- he had to go back. 

Adrian had started to teach him how to cope in times like this. “Lisa’s methods” he’d called them. Stilling the mind, ceasing breath and movement- Trevor didn't have time for all that but he did do his best to calm himself before he pushed forward. 

Adrian met him at the doorway- Trevor had yet to cross that threshold. It felt safer to stay behind it. 

Sophie was laying on the ground with Sypha posed over her. They were talking quietly. That was a good sign, at least. 

Adrian silently took the towels and returned to Sophie’s side. Trevor watched him press the fabric into her side. She gasped in pain. 

“Sophie, right?” Adrian asked her. She nodded. “You know what I am, correct?” She nodded again, her eyes filling with tears. “You’re going to be okay, but I need to know what happened. Would you like me to take the pain away so you can tell me?” His voice was calm and soft, his eyes gentle and caring. 

Sophie’s eyes slipped closed, tears spilling over as she nodded. Adrian dabbed at her tears with the cuff of his sleeve. “I need you to look at me, Sophie.”

Sophie opened her eyes again and looked up into Adrian’s. Even from afar, Trevor could see the flash of red around Adrian’s golden eyes, and watched the tension leave Sophie’s body. Her breathing evened and she sighed.

Even watching Adrian use his ability sent a predatory trill through Trevor- but Adrian was not a predator, he was a healer. Which is why he was hunched over Sophie, and Trevor was still hovering in the doorway, trying to keep himself under control. 

Adrian removed the towels just long enough to get a look at the wound. “It’s long, but not deep. As long as pressure is kept on it, she will survive,” He said to no one in particular. “Sophie- what happened?”

“Ah- there were men- strange men- in the village. We thought they were just bandits… gonna steal our stuff. Left my house, tried to reason with them, but they were saying strange things… things I didn’t understand. They wanted something but I- I don’t know what. I got scared and I tried to run and one of them cut me but let me go. I- I didn’t know where else to go. My sister- she’s still in town- please!” Sophie once again closed her eyes, tears spilling out the sides.

“You made a good choice, you’re safe here. Sypha here is going to keep pressure on your wound and Trevor and I will deal with this.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

Adrian stood and when Trevor could catch his eyes Trevor shot him a death glare and beckoned him. Trevor pulled him through to the other side of the door and slammed him shut.

“I’m glad that she’s safe,” Trevor hissed, “but do you understand exactly what you are volunteering me for? Not Sophie, she’s too young, but these people- these villagers- they’re the ones who killed my family, burned the estate to the ground with them inside!”

Adrian stared back at him cooly, “and wouldn’t you like the chance to prove them wrong?”

“Prove them wrong?” Trevor scoffed. “Like this?” He gestured to his face, his eyes, rimmed in red, and his fangs just peeking out from behind his upper lip. “My very existence proves them right! And what am I gonna do, stroll in there with the son of Dracula, save the day and have them sing our praises? They’ll try to kill us as soon as we deal with the threat!”

“This isn’t about the villagers. The men let Sophie go- possibly because they knew she would lead them here.” Adrian replied.

“You think they’re Carmilla’s men?”

“I think that’s a possibility, and we’d be fools to let them storm the castle.”

Trevor grumbled and sighed. “Fine! If only to get out of here before I hurt Sophie.”

“Do you need to get your whip?” Adrian asked.

“No, I have everything I need.”

“Suit yourself, then. Let’s go.”

 

* * *

 

Trevor pulled on his gloves and adjusted his grip on his short sword. He was grateful to be breathing in the fresh night air, but it didn’t help take the edge off his hunger or irritability. Adrian’s hypervigilance wasn’t helping, either. He was constantly turning around, scanning the woods in all directions.

Adrian certainly could tell how Trevor was feeling, but he wasn’t acting like it. Trevor realized that Adrian may be respecting his privacy by pretending that everything was fine, and he was grateful for that. The last thing he needed right now was a lecture about bloodlust.

The slow speed and caution they were moving with was killing Trevor. At this rate, it’d take over an hour to get to the village, and he wanted this over with. He wanted to kill some vampire bastards, save the day, leave before gratitude turned to murderous intent, and lock himself somewhere deep in the castle until he felt in control again. Adrian had other plans, though, and they crept along the dirt path towards the village.

The snap of a twig drew Trevor’s attention. It was probably a stag, but he listened closely for a heartbeat- he’d learned to discern animal from human based on speed, and hearing nothing at all would indicate a vampiric presence. He did not hear nothing. In fact, he didn’t hear just a single heartbeat, but three- slow, strong,  _ human _ . As hungry and worked up as he was, the sound was like thunder. Based on his lack of reaction, Adrian couldn’t hear it.

“Hey!” Trevor whispered harshly and grabbed Adrian’s arm. “There- three humans.” Adrian turned towards where Trevor indicated and slid his sword out of its scabbard.

“Are you sure?” Adrian asked him. 

“Three heart beats, loud and clear,” he asserted. Adrian nodded. 

“There may be vampires with them that you can't hear. Stay on your guard,” Adrian warned. 

The two of them crept forwards. Trevor didn't find their slow speed infuriating anymore. Instead, it felt thrilling. This must be what a cat feels when they stalk a mouse, he thought. The power trip was intoxicating. 

As they got closer, two things became clear. First, there were no vampires present, just the three human men, and second, those men were completely unaware of their approach.

They were arguing amongst themselves, about what Trevor didn't really care to make out. Adrian lightly tapped him on the shoulder.

“Looks like it's just the three,” he said quietly. “I'll keep an eye out for reinforcements, but would you like to try to incapacitate them on your own? Could be a good test of your skills.” 

Trevor grinned, flashing sharp teeth. “Hell yes.”

While the coincidence was compelling, Trevor kept in mind as he crept forward that these may not be the men they were looking for. He would just incapacitate them until he had proof.

He got his proof far before he reached them. The man whose back was to Trevor obviously hadn't bothered to wipe down his dagger, and the potent smell of Sophie’s blood, drying on the blade on the man's belt told Trevor everything he needed to know. 

These thugs- these bastards- attacked an innocent girl. They weren't vampires, they had no need for blood or a sire they had no choice to obey, they were just human scum who took those things for granted. They could just live quietly, but instead they wanted to cause suffering for suffering’s sake.

“-we got enough stuff from the locals, who’s ta say that crazy bitch won't kill us anyway. Let's just go!”

“That ‘crazy bitch’ is offering a huge piece o’ land for any one of those three- it's three on three, we can take ‘em!”

Trevor cut in to their conversation. “I’m afraid not, boys.”


	12. Fresh Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get out of hand, and Adrian steps in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we’re earning the “graphic depictions of violence” warning today, folx. 
> 
> Went ahead and bumped the rating up, seriously, the gore here is pretty extreme (but breif, and on par with the source material).

“I’m afraid not, boys.”

 The three men instantly spun towards Trevor but didn’t make a move forward. One of them called out, “Who’s there?”

Trevor must have overestimated their ability to see in the pitch-black night. The three couldn't see him, or at least, he didn't think they could.

The middle man, the one whose blade was streaked with Sophie’s blood, elbowed the man to his left. “Look!” He pointed in Trevor’s direction. “You see them eyes?”

“Oh yeah!” The man exclaimed and put his hands up in a gesture of surrender. “You scared us, there. You're one of Carmilla’s, right? We lost track of the girl, but we’ll find ‘er, we swear! No need to tell the old lady about this ‘ight?”

Trevor took a step forward, into the cast of their torch light. He allowed them to get a good look at him. “I am not, ‘ _one of Carmilla’s_ ,’” he spat.

“Uh,” the middle man took a step back, away from Trevor. “Your eyes- they're like hers. Like her men’s, thats- that's all!”

Trevor growled. “Carmilla sent you here? Told you to hunt an innocent girl?” Trevor took another step forward. “Tell me, what could possibly be worth selling your soul to a vampire like her? What? Money? Money won't save you.”

The man reached for his blade, his blade coated with Sophie’s blood, and Trevor had had enough. He lept forward, clawed gloves extended. The metal tips made contact with the man's throat, neatly shredding the exposed skin. The fine mist of arterial spray coated Trevor’s face with blood.

The smell overwhelmed Trevor senses. It was like an oppressive force, crowding him out in his own mind- pushing “Trevor” to the back as blood took control.

The next nearest man screamed and drew his blade. The movement caught Trevor’s eye, and he turned his attention to the man. Trevor threw his weight forward, landing a blow with his elbow to the man’s shoulder. His sword landed with a soft _thump_ on the soil. The man howled in pain. In a flash, Trevor crouched and swung out a leg, sweeping the man’s feet out from under him before he had time to react, and sending him crashing to the ground next to his sword.

Movement once again caught Trevor’s eye- a form, fleeing. Predatory instinct overwhelmed him and he lunged towards the shape. He landed, dragging the heavy form to the ground. Blood filled his mouth as his prey gasped, pinned underneath him.

 

* * *

 

 

Adrian watched Trevor talking with the men. He hung back enough to stay hidden and out of Trevor’s way, but close enough to jump in within seconds if more men- especially any vampires- entered play.

He watched Trevor become agitated at the mention of Carmilla’s name, and saw him leap on to the nearest man.

 The smell of blood was unmistakable, but Trevor’s body blocked his view of the action, and obscured the ferocity of the attack.

Trevor moved on to the next man, efficiently disarming him with a blow to the shoulder, and sending him down to the ground by sweeping his feet out from under him.

It wasn't until Trevor was on the third man that Adrian knew something was wrong. The third man was fleeing, and before even Adrian could react, Trevor was on him, his teeth and claws sinking into his flesh.

 Still, Adrian did react much quicker than any human would have. Within seconds, he was behind Trevor, roughly yanking him back by his hair.

 Trevor yelled in surprise, releasing his grip in the process. He hit the ground with a soft _thump_ before twisting around towards Adrian. His face was stained with blood and he hissed at the man who had interrupted his meal.

Hurt must have been etched into Adrian's face, because Trevor’s face immediately fell, aggression melting away into horror.

“Adrian! I-” Trevor’s eyes fell to the gore around him and he wiped at the blood on his chin with the back of his gloved hand. He only succeeded in smearing the blood around on both. The nearly-dead man gurgled but didn’t seem to be conscious. That was for the best- he wouldn’t be coming back from this

This was wrong- Trevor had done a bad thing- but, they were bad men. They were in Carmilla’s pocket, no better that her soldiers- worse even, maybe. But the sight of Trevor, kneeling in the dirt, looking like he was near tears, covered in blood- power and vulnerability swirling together- Adrian had never wanted to kiss him more.

“I'm sorry.” Adrian said finally. “I should have known you were in a bad state. I shouldn't have brought you along.”

 “No.” Trevor said fimly, still kneeling on the ground, eyes downcast. “You're not responsible for me.” He pushed himself to his feet and met Adrian's eyes. He smelled like blood and dirt. “I could have handled that better, but I’m not sorry. He had Sophie’s blood on his hands and his blade.” 

“And his blood is on yours,” Adrian lightly touched Trevor’s blood-soaked gloves.

 Trevor pulled his hand away. “He deserved it. They all did. I only wish I had more restraint, so I could have enjoyed it more.” He punctuated this with a sharp kick to the now-very-dead man’s side.

Adrian scrunched up his face a little. “I was expecting a moral panic, for you to curse your monstrosity or… something.”

Trevor glared at him. “It’s not as if I’ve never killed people before, or for less. Don’t impose your own self loathing on me.”

Something bubbled up inside Adrian. It may have come out as a laugh, in another circumstance, but it stayed in his chest, just a tickle of warmth. He cupped his hands on either side of Trevor's face, felt the texture of slippery blood on scratchy beard. Trevor didn’t pull away, but continued to stare him down challengingly. Trevor was fierce, and he’d shown him just how ruthless he could be. Adrian felt as shiver of what might be fear in any other situation, but he now felt as only excitement. 

He leaned forward, tasted the dead man’s blood on Trevor’s lips. He coaxed Trevor’s mouth open with his tongue and blissfully, Trevor kissed him back.

Trevor's tongue chased after his own, uncharacteristically slow and tentative. Adrian traced the point of Trevor’s fangs with his tongue, let them nick him. He relished in the groan and increased enthusiasm that earned from Trevor.

 After what felt like a lifetime of dancing around each other, they were finally on the same page, here, in a clearing, amongst the still-warm dead. 

Adrian was the first to pull away. Trevor tried to give chase but he was firm. 

“Trevor,” he said, “as much as I'd like to continue this, we risk being caught in this carnage by laymen. And we should get back to Sypha and Sophie- there's a chance this was a ruse to lure us out.”

Trevor finally pulled away. “I don't want either of them to see me like this.” He looked back up at Adrian. “You're not in much better shape.”

A good amount of blood had found its way from Trevor’s face to Adrian's. Adrian wiped at his face with slightly more success than Trevor had when he’d done the same before. “I'll be fine. You can go right to the baths, I'll look after Sophie and Sypha. You’ll know if there's danger.”

“Right.” Trevor responded.

They made their way swiftly back to the castle in silence. Despite Adrian’s fears, it had been no ruse. He found Sophie and Sypha safe in a laboratory off the entrance hall, Sypha had successfully stemmed the bleeding and Sophie was sleeping. He sat with them while Trevor washed off.

Trevor avoided the mirrors as he drew a bath. Being covered in gore wasn't exactly a new experience for him, but it usually wasn't human, and usually wasn't so concentrated around his mouth. He’s licked away the blood on his lips, but he smell followed him, and wasn't keen on meeting red eyes in the mirror just yet.

He slipped his head under the water and watched the pink tinge spread. His vision was blurry underwater, but with no need to breathe, he could stay underneath indefinitely, watching the swirling patterns.

He was used to living with the consequences of such brutal fights for days, his own blood mixed with his adversaries and caked on his skin until he could find a river to dunk himself in, but tonight, he hadn't spilled a single drop of his own blood, and the warm water fed by the castle so efficiently lifted the remnants from his skin. He wasn't sure how that made him feel.

He knew he should probably feel worse, but he couldn't bring himself to, especially not after Adrian had finally kissed him back.

 Why _had_ Adrian kissed him? Trevor had just showed him how _not_ in control he was, yet he felt the ghost of Adrian's fingers on his face and his lips on his own.

 He groaned and sat up in the tub. He finished scrubbing himself off and stepped out. He tossed his blood-soaked clothing in- he’d deal with them later, and they could soak for now- dried himself off, and changed into a set of clean clothes that had been left in the bathroom.

He did catch a glimpse of himself then, wet hair weighed down to reveal slightly pointed ear tips that he hadn't noticed before. At least his eyes were normal.

After drying his hair a little more, he made his way towards the others.

 The smell of blood was still present, but much less forceful than it had been- someone had clearly cleaned, and while his meal in the forest had been so rudely cut short, he was satiated, for now.

 Sophie was awake now, but bleary-eyed and disoriented. Adrian was speaking with Sypha as he walked in.

“It's a long slash, but not particularly deep. I don't think any muscle was badly damaged, and certainly none of her organs were touched. She's lost a lot of blood and will need time to recover, but as long as infection doesn't set in, she will be fine.”

Sophie looked up at Trevor as he walked in. She didn’t smile, but she didn’t recoil either. Right.

 “Adrian filled me in about what happened,” she told him. “Sophie is going to stay here a few days while she recovers.”

Sophie was lying on a table with a pillow under her head. She had been changed into into unsoiled clothes, and her side was expertly bandaged. The smell of blood was no stronger in here than in the entrance hall.

Trevor pulled out a chair and sat down next to Adrian. He squeezed Sophie’s hand and she squeezed back.

“She’s not going to stop coming,” he said finally. “Carmilla- she’s going to keep sending men until she gets the castle, and innocent people are going to keep getting caught in the crossfire.”

“I know,” Adrian responded. “The expected course of action would be to move the castle, but as you know, the engine is in far from working order. I was hoping that she would see that, since we haven’t moved, but I suspect she may be trying to call our bluff, as it were.”

“We can hold out for the time being,” Adrian continued, “but not forever.”

Sophie drifted back off to sleep, and the three of them remained in grim silence for some time. Sypha started to drift off herself and Adrian urged her to try to get some sleep. She finally agreed and made her way to her room, leaving Trevor and Adrian with the sleeping Sophie.

“Why then?” Trevor broke the silence. He spoke softly as to not wake the sleeping woman.

“Why then?” Adrian repeated.

Frustration etched into the lines of Trevor's face. “In the woods- why did you finally kiss me? Why then, why there?”

 Adrian sighed and leaned back in his chair. “It was what you said- you said ‘don't impose your self loathing on me.’ You were right- I was assuming you’d feel the way I did- which was disgusted, by the way- but you didn't.” Adrian smiled, and Trevor could feel the warmth radiating off of him, “your thoughts, your emotions- they're your own. I don't know if they always were, or if your training did indeed set you free from any subconscious influence I may have had.”

Trevor's eyes were wide. “Order me to do something.”

“Trevor that's-”

“Adrian, do it.” Trevor gritted his teeth.

 Adrian sighed again. “Fine- stand up” 

Trevor immediately jolted out of his seat. He groaned loudly when he realized what he’d done. 

Adrian shushes him with a finger and gestured for him to sit down. “I wasn't suggesting that all my influence was gone, it’s clear that I can control your actions, but I'm not controlling you in ways that I can't control, and that's a huge relief.”

 Trevor groaned again, but quieter. “I already knew that.”

Adrian frowned. “But I didn't. Not for sure. And I couldn't bare the thought of taking advantage of you.” 

“But you're convinced now, that my… feelings about you are genuine.”

 “I am.” Adrian replied. Silence stretched between them for some time. 

“What now?” Trevor finally asked.

“That's a good question.” Adrian stood from his chair and bent over the still seated Trevor. He traced a finger along Trevor's jaw. “What would you like?” Adrian relished in the way he shivered.

Trevor glances nervously over to the sleeping Sophie. She hadn't stirred, but his thinking was clear. “We should go somewhere else.”

“Of course,” Adrian purred. He may be going a little overboard on the charm, but Trevor wasn't complaining- yet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so, so much, to everyone who continues to comment week after week. Your feedback makes me feel appreciated and keeps me going! 
> 
> I got a little “stuck” on this chapter, but my four month summer break is about to kick off and updates should come more quickly. With any luck, I’ll be having top surgery, and will have lots of time stuck in bed to write.


	13. Changed blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not adding the rape/noncon tag because this is all enthusiastically consented to, but there are some consent questions/issues since Trevor still cannot resist verbal commands, so I thought a warning for that might be warranted. That being said, Adrian is very careful to avoid any commands.

Adrian led him to a bedroom a little down the hall from the laboratory- close enough that they'd be able to hear Sophie yell if she was in distress, but far enough away that they wouldn't wake her. 

He didn't exactly need to- both of them could see just fine, but Adrian took the time to light a candelabra that adorned the far wall.

When he turned around, Trevor was sitting awkwardly on the corner of the bed.

“Don't tell me this is where you draw the line, _Belmont.”_ Adrian drawled, drawing nearer.

Trevor scowled. “That's not it- I've just never…”

“Never had sex? I find that hard to believe.” Adrian was over him now, and undid the top most button of his shirt.

 “Of course I've had sex before- just never with anyone I had any intention of spending more than a night with. I just don't want it to be… awkward. Later.” 

Adrian did laugh at that. “Trevor, you're a Belmont vampire hunter-turned-vampire, I’m the son of Dracula, and we live in his house- when has it ever been _not_ awkward?”

Trevor's scowl softened. “And whose fault is that?” He asked playfully. He’d said those exact words just a few short months ago, dripping with venom, meant to slice through the angelic man who stood in front of him like knives. Now, it was an in-joke, a lover’s jest. He smiled, flashing just a little bit of fang, and Adrian melted. 

Adrian straddled Trevor where he sat on the bed as he continued to unbutton his linen shirt, his knees on either side of Trevor’s hips. Trevor placed his hands on Adrian’s sides. The material was cool to the touch, but he felt Adrian's warmth underneath. Once upon a time, the warmth of Adrian's skin had repulsed him, reminded him of how cold, how _dead_ , he himself was, but now it made him feel alive- more alive than he ever had felt before.

Adrian kissed him then. It was soft and sweet and it made Trevor's head spin. His lips were soft, warm, demanding. Everything was falling apart and into place.

Adrian finished unbuttoning Trevor’s shirt and pushed it off his shoulders. In turn, Trevor snaked his hands under Adrian's and helped him lift it over his head. Adrian looped his arms around Trevor's neck.

 The milky expanse of Adrian's torso exposed, Trevor traced the hard lines of his collar bones, then his pectorals with his fingers. He stopped when he hit jagged, pink, scar tissue. He looked up to Adrian's face, looking for any signs to avoid the area, but Adrian's eyes were closed and he was smiling serenely. He pressed his palm flat against Adrian's sternum and carded his fingers through his hair where it cascaded down his back. Adrian hummed appreciatively.

 Adrian kissed him again, then. The sweetness they shared before was giving way to sometime more primal, more aggressive. Trevor grinded up into Adrian. His pants were already uncomfortably tight.

 Adrian pulled away and Trevor had to suppress an embarrassing whine- he wasn't going to let on just how worked up he was if he could help it. 

“How do you want to do this?,” Adrian asked.

Trevor paused his movements. “I- uh.”

“I’m usually more of a giver,” Adrian continued, “but I think I would be most comfortable with you taking charge this time at least, in whatever form that may take.”

Trevor flushed and mumbled something garbled.

“What was that?” Adrian asked.  

“Wantyoutofuckme,” Trevor said in one rushed exhalation. 

Adrian wrinkled his nose. “So vulgar- but that can be arranged, if that's how you want it.” He reached under himself to tug at Trevor's trousers. “First step- take these off,” he said, “if you wish,” he added quickly.

Trevor gave a lazy roll of his shoulders before shimmying out of his pants. Not wanting to be the only one nude, he tugged at Adrian's pants and he cooperatively lifted his hips to aid in their removal. 

Now both fully nude, Trevor griped Adrian's strong thighs. His skin was so soft and warm, with just a hint of masculine fuzziness. A jolt of arousal hit Trevor upon seeing the other man naked for the first time. Of course he was gorgeous “down there” too- neat blonde curls framed his cock- he was large, but not monstrously so, and Trevor was definitely staring now-

Adrian fluttered his eyelashes and rotated his hips coyly. “Like what you see?”

It was a little infuriating, to be honest- Adrian was too perfect, too beautiful, and all to aware of it- but Trevor's arousal was drowning out his anger and pettiness for once, and all he could manage was a silent nod.

Adrian tilted his head back, his hands on Trevor's chest, and laughed. The sound was none other than that of an angel- Trevor couldn't even bring himself to care that he was the one being laughed at, as lighthearted as the situation may be- he wanted to hear that sound again and again. 

Adrian got off of him, and Trevor groaned at the loss of skin contact. Adrian stepped over to the bedside table and began rummaging around. At least Trevor had a nice view of his ass.

Trevor leaned back on his elbows while Adrian found what he was looking for. He turned back to face Trevor with a small corked bottle in hand. “Linseed oil,” he explained without Trevor having asked. “You know how vampires are.”

Trevor was acutely aware “how vampires are”- had been his whole life- that didn't make it less weird for their to be lubricant in a random bedroom in Dracula's castle. Despite its current utility, Trevor couldn't help but think of any of Dracula’s gross grey-skinned generals fucking in here. Yuck.

Trevor pushed that line of thinking aside as Adrian crawled into the bed over him. From their positioning, he couldn't help but be reminded of the end of their match under Gresit, only this time, it was not a knife poking into Adrian's hip. 

Adrian must have been thinking the same thing, because he purred, “Now, isn’t this familiar.” Trevor swatted lazily at Adrian's face, and Adrian grabbed his wrist easily. He was just playing around with the swipe, but Adrian’s agility made Trevor’s stomach do a lazy flop.

Adrian kept his grip on Trevor’s wrist as he trailed light kisses down his neck, then his chest, down to his hip. Trevor squirmed when he felt hot breath on his cock, and Adrian released his wrist so he would have both hands to pin his hips to the mattress.

Trevor tried to buck when Adrian licked a hot stripe up his cock, but Adrian’s strength still far outpaced his own. “ _Shit_ ,” Trevor swore, “careful with those teeth.”

Adrian scoffed. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Right, sure, just be careful.” 

Adrian didn’t deign to respond, instead popping Trevor’s tip into his mouth. Trevor tensed momentarily before relaxing. _He really was nervous_ , Adrian thought, _cute_.

Once Trevor got over his trepidation about those teeth being anywhere near his dick, Adrian’s mouth started to feel good. Really good. Sex had never been a huge part of his life, but since the night hoard came, it had been nonexistent. That was what, almost a year ago now?

Shit, _Adrian was really good at this_ . His eyes were closed in concentration, but he had no problem taking Trevor down to the hilt. Trevor wasn't even sure, logistically, how he was avoiding the scrape of fangs, and _fuck, why hadn't they done this sooner._

As distracted as he was, he hadn't noticed Adrian uncorking the bottle of oil or spreading it on his fingers before a slicked digit circled his rim. Golden eyes met his, looking for permission, and Trevor nodded, granting it.

The stretch was a little uncomfortable- it really had been too long- but Trevor relaxed, and before he knew it, Adrian had three fingers inside him, gliding easily. 

Adrian nuzzled the junction of Trevor's neck and shoulder. He hadn't really meant to, but instinct, or muscle memory, guided him to what was once a pulse point. Now, he could hear Trevor's blood flow underneath his skin, as uninterrupted as a river, with no pauses that a heartbeat necessitates. 

He caught himself, and left a small kiss on Trevor’s skin, hoping he hadn't noticed Hus temporary lapse. Of course, though, Trevor knew exactly what he was doing. Just his luck. He didn't say anything, though, and Adrian hoped he wouldn't hold it against him.

Adrian withdrew his finger, wiping the excess oil off on the sheets. “Ready?” He asked.

“I've been ready, come on.”

The way Trevor furrowed his brows and parted his lips as he pushed in would be burned into Adrian's mind forever.

As he began to thrust, Adrian found himself once again drawn to the point where Trevor’s neck met his shoulder. This time, though, when his lips met Trevor's skin, Trevor laced his fingers though Adrian's hair and held him in place with considerable strength. 

Adrian froze mid-thrust; he made a confused, worried noise, and tried to pull away- he was too close, it was too much, he couldn't hurt Trevor, not again, not like this, but if he didnt let him move away…!

“Trevor, if you don't…!” Panic crept into Adrian's voice and he clenched his jaw. Of all times to discover Trevor’s strength may have outpaced his own, this had to be the worst. 

Trevor released his grip just enough for Adrian to pull away. He pushed himself up on his hands and Trevor followed him, propping himself up on his elbows. 

“I want you to,” Trevor whispered. Adrian didn't react, and so he continued. “I want you to bite me,” 

Adrian remained still. His face was creased with worry and uncertainty, and he waited for Trevor to really look at him before he spoke. “Are you sure? The last time, you- you died. That can't be something you want to relive.” 

Trevor squirmed, trying to get Adrian to move, to do _something,_ but Adrian had the advantageous position and kept him pinned under his weight. “I'm sure. Want to start over, from here. Just… keep going. Please.” 

 _Please._ The anxiety slowly drained from Adrian's mind, and warmth took its place. Starting over, from here- replacing a memory of violence and loss with that of intimacy and love. He liked that idea. It was a luxury very few of those turned against their will would ever have. Of course he would grant Trevor that, and he asked so prettily.

“Mmm. If you're sure. I warn you, it's much more intense when ‘in the act.’” Adrian’s lips ghosted over his throat. It tickled. It was driving Trevor mad.

Trevor groaned. He let himself fall back and wrapped his arms around Adrian's waist, dragging him down with him.

Adrian peppered small kisses down Trevor's neck as he began to thrust again, slow and sweet. This was for Trevor, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy himself too, and finding the edge of his own self control was his favorite part of this- pushing himself to the edge when he knew the fall would land with all parties safe and satisfied.

And Trevor Belmont smelled _so fucking good_. He always did, but especially so like this, (mostly) clean, underneath him, and wanting. Adrian licked a line up his throat and he groaned again. Trevor’s impatience finally spurred him on, and in sync with a sharp thrust, Adrian caught his flesh with his fangs and tore in.

The way Trevor arched up towards him was positively sinful.

Adrian felt, more than heard, himself growl as the first few drops of Trevor's blood hit his tongue. He hasn't been hungry when they started, maybe spread a bit thin, but Trevor was intoxicating, and Adrian felt the last of his control slip as he sealed his lips around the wound. The room fell away, and Adrian’s world narrowed to blood.

The change had altered Trevor's blood, of course, and where there had once been the overwhelming sweetness and vibrancy of _life_ , what now coated his tongue was _power_ and _dark_ , but it was still _Trevor, Trevor, Trevor_ and he drank, and drank.

As he drank, Adrian did slowly come back to himself, and the sounds of the room that the rush of blood had drowned out came back into focus. There was the wet slap of skin on skin, and a stream of garbled praise and gurgles fell from Trevor’s lips. 

Adrian reached up and ran his fingers through Trevor's hair. There was stickiness between them, and he realized that he himself had come too somewhere in the fog of _blood_ and _Trevor_.

He pulled away with a gasp. Trevor's eyes were half lidded and he wasn't breathing. Panic arched through Adrian- he’d done it again, he’d taken too much! But Trevor closed his eyes and lazily smiled. Adrian took a calming, deep breathe. Right.

Trevor grumbled when he pulled out. Adrian stepped into the adjoining bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. Trevor grumbled again as he wiped him down, but remained mostly still and kept his eyes shut tightly. Maybe he had taken a little too much after all.

Adrian sat lightly on the side of the bed and watched him silently for a while.

“Trevor?” He finally asked.

Trevor opened one eye.

“Are you- was that-”

Trevor interrupted him. “Get over here, stop talking.” 

Who was he to argue?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me a month to write. Oof.


	14. Unlikely Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is formed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> little bit of a shorter chapter this time, but I wanted to share my excitement about the next arc! I hope you're as excited as I am. When I started writing this in December, I didn't have plans beyond “vampire angst → vampire sex” but you all have fueled me to really dig into the premise and possibilities, and so I'm gonna keep sharing :)

It was with great reluctance that Adrian finally disentangled his limbs from Trevor’s.

He was fast asleep, so dead to the world that he did appear to be dead, without even the rise and fall of his chest to give some indication of his state. He knew it was silly, but Adrian pressed a hand to Trevor's forearm before he left, feeling how his blood flowed beneath his skin, no more or less alive than he had been a few hours ago.

 Adrian let him sleep. His body would need time to regenerate what he had taken. He quietly dressed in a shirt and pants, leaving his boots behind. He could levitate to avoid the clack of heels, but that seemed like a waste of resources when Trevor was going to wake up hungry.

He checked on Sophie down the hall. She was sleeping soundly, and there was no smell of blood or infection in the air. With nothing else to do for her, he poured her a fresh glass of water on the bedside table. She would need breakfast in a few hours. Hopefully she would feel well enough to eat it.

 He felt smiled softly. When had he become so domestic? Perhaps he was more of his mother’s son than he had previously known. She would have liked Sophie, he thought- even after seeing unknown horrors in this castle, this young woman had come back in her time of need, and placed her trust in their strange trio.

Everyone was asleep, and for the first time in some weeks, Adrian was alone. He was expecting the creeping solitude to reopen old wounds, but he found himself surprisingly content as he chopped up apples in the kitchen. Maybe it was that he wasn't actually alone. Perhaps he never would be again. He liked some alone time, sure, but eternity wasn't seeming so daunting knowing that he wasn't facing it alone.

He still felt guilty- he knew he shouldn’t be so happy about his friend’s- lover’s?- curse, but Trevor seemed to be content for now, so he was too.

He scooped the apples into a pot. They were a little too over-ripe to be eaten raw but they should cook down nicely. He placed the pot above the fire and gave them a stir. He considered starting some oats too, but decided against it- it may still be a few hours before anyone was awake, and they would end up overcooked and chewy.

He stood there in the kitchen, unsure of what to do with himself. He knew he should take advantage of this privacy while he had it, but what should he do? What had he done in the months he was alone? 

He couldn't work on the hold because he didn't want to be too far from Sophie, in case she woke up scared and in pain. He could read, but Sypha had the books they were currently referencing, and no vampiric powers could prevent the creak of her wooden door from waking her.

He decided to visit his father’s laboratory. He’d been in a few times since… since waking up in Gresit, to use the distance mirror. His memories and feelings of the place were… complicated. It had once been a place of great joy and wonder, but the stain of the last two years had made it hard to enter. Not as hard as his childhood bedroom, which he had firmly locked, but challenging just the same.

Still, it felt wrong to remove the mirror from its place, and he could push the pain back long enough to use it or the other implements in the room, when needed.

He walked from the kitchen, up the spiraling staircase towards the laboratory. The cool stone felt good on his bare feet. He remembered running up these stairs, barefoot, as a child, excited to watch his father work.

He gently pushed open the laboratory door. It had been a few weeks since he’d been in this space, and a fine layer of dust settled on all the surfaces. Adrian wrinkled his nose. He didn't like seeing the implements that had filled him with wonder in his youth in disuse like this.

He rubbed the dust off the mirror with his shirt sleeve. Even after his reflection faded, he didn't like what he saw.

 

* * *

 

“I’ve been keeping an eye on Styria.”

 “Oh?” Sypha looked up from her cup of tea. “And?”

 The three of them sat around the kitchen table. Sophie still wasn't strong enough to get out of bed, so she had eaten her breakfast of oatmeal and baked apples in the room she occupied. She sat up, though, which was a good sign. Sypha’s bowl sat cooling in front of her as she sipped some interesting-smelling herbal tea. Trevor was looking extremely bleary, but was doing his best to be attentive after he saw the look on Adrian’s face when he got him out of bed. If Sypha picked up on the fact that they shared a bed last night, she didn’t say anything, though she did side-eye Trevor and his unfocused state. Any hard evidence of their evening had long since healed.

Adrian worried his bottom lip slightly. “There'd be absolutely no movement outside Carmilla’s castle for weeks, as far as I could see through the mirror, but when I checked this morning, there were tents… garrisons, and a large number of soldiers.” 

Sypha straightened in her seat. “Do you think…?”

Adrian nodded. “I do not know of any other reason she would be gathering an army. She must be planning a full scale attack on the castle.”

Trevor snapped to attention. “Well, then, we’re fucked. There's nothing we can do against an entire fucking army. It's pure goddamn luck that she wiped out most of Dracula's when we planned our own little castle storming.” 

Sypha took a deep breath. “Let's think this through. We have time- it will take several weeks to march from Styria. They way I look at it, we have two options- either we can ward the whole property, or we can reseal the Belmont hold and try to repair the castle’s engine.”

Adrian shook his head. “She knows exactly where we are, she would be able to eventually punch through any ward we could raise. And you know as well as I do that the engine is completely nonfunctional. You made sure of that.”

“Well, we can't just let her take the castle!” Sypha exclaimed.

“No, we can't. I don't know exactly what her plans are, but whatever they are would doom the people of Wallachia. I may have an idea, but you're not going to like it.”

Sypha crossed her arms. “Do tell.”

“We may have an… unlikely ally. There's a woman. A vampire. She was a friend of my father’s and she seems to have gotten… incomplete intelligence regarding my father’s death.”

“Absolutely not,” Trevor deadpanned.

Adrian tisked. Sypha placed a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “Are we still doing this? At least hear him out,” she urged.

“I know you think every vampire has a heart of gold, Sypha, and I am damn sure glad that's the case now, but the reality is that vampires as a whole are irredeemably evil, and allying ourselves with one is a very very bad idea.” 

“I won't argue that,” Adrian conceded. “Even amongst vampires she’s particularly heinous, but I can't stress enough how few options we have.”

Sypha frowned. “Even so, what help could a single vampire possibly give us that would be worth the danger?”

“She's not a single vampire,” Adrian explained. “Her name is Elizabeth Bathory, and she controls most of the kingdom of Hungary. Most importantly, she has an army.” 

“Alright… that does make sense, but why do you think she would help us?” Sypha asked.

“As I said, she seems to have received some incomplete intelligence regarding my father’s death. She knows Carmilla was involved, but somehow _my_ involvement has completely missed her. I received communication some months ago from her supporting my ‘ascension’ to his throne. I ignored it, the last thing we needed was another enemy with Carmilla at large, but now… I think we can use her.”  

Trevor leaned back in his seat. “And then kill her?”

Adrian nodded. “If the opportunity presents itself.” 

“If we do this, and I stress _if_ , what would be our first move?” Trevor asked, still looking decidedly uncomfortable. 

“I contact her, thank her for her support, and ask for an audience- that will be easy enough, she has a distance mirror that we can connect to. I warn you though, she’s very… _traditional_ \- we can make a request from here, but she’s going to want to see us in person for an audience.”

“Us?,” Sypha piped in, “All of us?”

“Well, no.” Adrian folded his hands on the table. “You can more than handle yourself, Sypha, but it wouldn’t be safe for you, as a human. Trevor and I will go.”

“What?” Trevor abruptly stood from his chair. “It’s not safe for Sypha, but hunky-dory for a Belmont vampire hunter to stroll in?” He exclaimed.

Irritation flashed across Adrian’s face. “Trevor, sit down.”

Trevor snapped into his seat and growled when he realized what he’d done.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that, but it does prove my point. You’re ‘Trevor-fucking-Belmont’ and you’re _mine-_ at least you are in her eyes. You’re a status symbol, a prize- your presence strengthens our story and may be the factor that pushes her to _trust me_.”

Trevor crossed his arms “What, exactly, would that story be?”

“Nothing too far from the truth, no need to create extra complications- Carmilla’s forces wiped out Dracula’s, you brought the castle to you, cutting her off, you killed Dracula, I killed and turned you- in revenge for my dear father, of course- and now Carmilla wants the castle again.” 

“You think she’ll buy that?”

“There’s no reason for her not to, especially with you by my side.”

 Trevor sighed and shook his head. “We really don’t have many options here, do we?”

“I’m afraid not, I’m not going to lie to you, this is going to be a very uncomfortable visit. Everything your family told you about vampire high society is probably true, and we are going to have to blend in, whatever that may mean. If we make too many waves, if we are too suspicious, she will have no qualms killing us and sending forces to the castle herself. The only thing we will have protecting us is propriety and her loyalty to my father.”

Sypha placed her hand on Trevor’s shoulder once again. “Honestly, it can’t be more dangerous than what you’ve already done, right?”

Trevor grumbled. “I suppose not, but I’m not exactly keen on pretending to be your what, slave?”

Adrian smiled sheepishly. “More like fancy pet.”

Sypha winced.

 Trevor dragged his hands down his face. “Fine. For the good of Wallachia?”

“For the good of Wallachia,” Adrian agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's better than one scary vampire lady? Two scary vampire ladies!
> 
> Elizabeth Bathory is actually cannonical to the game series, but the Netflix show (whose timeline I'm following) occurs ~200 years before her appearance in the games.


	15. New plans

It wasn't until the three of them were standing outside of the door to his father's study that Adrian realized that neither of his companions had been in the space in any… peaceful capacity. 

Still, he regretted not keeping them in the loop, and he wanted them with him now as he formally requested an audience. They looked around curiously as he let them in, cataloging in their minds what repair work Adrian must have done in the months he was alone. 

Adrian instinctively bristled at what felt like an intrusion, but his more logical half soothed him. These were his friends, they were here to support him, and this sanctuary would go back to just how it was as soon as this was over with.

He strode over to the mirror with a confidence he didn't deeply feel, before turning around to make sure that his companions would be out of sight. Sypha gave him a thumbs up and he turned back to the mirror. He took a deep breath before waving his hand before the glass and making the connection.

His reflection instantly changed, and he now saw in the glass a lavishly furnished bedchamber. It was a moment before a figure stepped into view. It was a young woman, in a simple white gown, with dark hair pooled into a bun on top of her head. Adrian kept his face impeccably neutral. 

“Ah! Lord Tepes!” The woman exclaimed in a sweet Hungarian accent. The title disturbed Adrian, but he kept his face blank. She continued quickly, “Lady Bathory will be so pleased to finally hear from you.”

“I very much would like to speak to her myself. I would like to request a formal audience.”

“Ah! That can be arranged. Lady Bathory is in residence, and we have spare rooms to accommodate you. Will it just be yourself or…?”

“I'll be traveling with one fledgeling,” Adrian stated blankly. 

“Oh! I didn't know you could…”

Adrian put on a show of disgust. “Didn't think I was capable of creating fledglings of my own? How presumptuous.”

“I'm very sorry Lord Tepes… no offense was meant. I will go pass on your request for an audience to Lady Bathory.” She bowed deeply and left view. 

Adrian chanced a glance over to Trevor and Sypha. Trevor was trying to appear nonchalant, in a chair with his legs crossed, his head resting in his hand, but nervous lines creased his face. He raised an eyebrow when he saw Adrian look his way. Sypha stood by him, looking as determined as ever. She gave Adrian a sharp nod when she saw him glance her way. 

He turned back to the mirror and crossed his arms behind his back. Before long, a regal figure entered view, flanked by the young woman. 

Lady Elizabeth Bathory was everything a vampire noble would be expected to be- snow white skin, pitch black hair, a beautiful but cruel face. That is, with the exception of her clothes- where one may expect something dark, her clothes, while still elegant, were multi-colored, multi-layered, and beaded.

Her lips turned up in what may have been called a smile- if the gesture had reached her eyes- and she bowed her head slightly. Adrian did the same. 

“Lady Bathory- I wasn't expecting to communicate with you directly. I believe you much prefer to hold audiences in person?”

“Indeed I do, but after so much silence, I needed to see you for myself. I wondered if you perhaps been usurped already.” She smiled that cold smile again. “I am pleased to see that is not the case.”

Adrian nodded, and waited for her to continue. 

“That is as much business as I wish to conduct in this manner. Will you be coming through immediately?” She continued 

“Not immediately, no, I need a few days to make arrangements.” Adrian replied. 

“Very well. We await your arrival, Adrian Tepes.” Elizabeth turned and left the room with a flourish. 

Adrian talked briefly with her assistant after she left, setting more concrete plans, before severing the connection. 

_ Clap. clap. clap. _

Adrian turned towards the sound that echoed around the space’s tall ceiling. Trevor still sat in his chair, but now sat up, and was slowly clapping. 

“Take a bow, award winning performance, there.” 

Adrian scowled. “Are you… making fun of me?”

Sypha hit Trevor on the back of the head. “Ow!” He turned back to Adrian, “don't you think you might have overplayed that a bit?  _ ‘How presumptuous,’ _ ” he imitated. 

Adrian sighed. “Vampire society is highly hierarchical. That girl committed an offense against me, and if I had let it slide, I may have appeared weak. We absolutely cannot let ourselves appear weak to Elizabeth Bathory or anyone in her court- the last thing we need is  _ two _ vampire murderesses and their armies storming the castle.”

Trevor hrumphed, but didn't try to fight it. Adrian walked over to him. “Trevor… I’m going to have to say a great many things, much harsher than that, if we are to pull this off. I will probably have to command you to keep up appearances, and I will not be able to apologize until much later. You know who I am, you know that I don't truly believe in such things, but if you can't keep sight of that, if you let the act get to you… then this isn't going to work, and we should call the whole thing off- we might still have time if we-”

Trevor cut him off. “No- no. I'm fine. I can handle this.”

Sypha looked decidedly unsure herself, but placed a reassuring hand on Trevor’s shoulder. 

Trevor stood up. “So, a few days, then?” 

Adrian nodded. “A few days.”

 

* * *

 

The next few days were a flurry of activity. Sophie was slowly getting stronger, but Adrian was still worried about the possibility of infection. Sypha wouldn't be able to contact him while they were away, less she blow their cover, so Adrian wrote out detailed wound care instructions for her, including where to locate the various substances and botanicals she may require for Sophie’s care. 

Getting Trevor ready was proving difficult. Showing up in anything less than their best fineries would be interpreted as a slight, and while scrounged shirts and pants only need to fit approximately, jackets must be much more exact. Eventually, Adrian settled on a red, finely embroidered, coat for him- it was much too large, but Adrian and Sypha both had sewing experience to tailor it. Adrian's experience was more focused on stitches one might use to close wounds, and Sypha’s the rough “get it done” type used to fashion speaker’s robes, but together they were able to get the jacket to a point where, unless you looked very closely, it seemed professionally tailored. Trevor did his best to help by being a patient mannequin, but he was never known as a particularly patient man. 

Sypha had since gone to sleep, and just Adrian and Trevor remained up, finishing the last few stitches (and clever embellishments to obscure those stitches) on the coat. 

“I know we talked about this before, but one last time… I need to go over with you what may happen when we’re there.”

Trevor had started to doze off as Adrian carefully pinned pieces to him, but he perked up at this. He yawned. “I know, I know- you’re going to have to say and do things you don’t mean. You’re going to have to order me around. It’s fine. I’m more worried about things going sideways and us having to fight our way out.”

Adrian paused his stitching and worried his bottom lip. “That’s unlikely. There’s rules of decorum surrounding treatment of guests, and ‘not trying to kill them’ is high on that list. It’s just-“

“Knock that shit off” Trevor interrupted. Adrian stared back, stunned. “You’re really starting to piss me off. I’m not a child, I can play along, and I don’t appreciate being coddled.”

“Trevor-“

“No!” Trevor’s eyes flashed a bright crimson and Adrian took a step back. Before Adrian could say anything, Trevor took a deep breath and rubbed his face. “Look, I don’t want to do this just as much as you do. I know that you can feel what I’m feeling, but obviously that isn’t enough assurance for you, so how about this- what if we agree on some code words, one for ‘I’m fine,’ and one for ‘I’m not fine.’”

“That… might work. If you’re inconspicuous about it.”

Trevor thought for a moment. “How about, ‘as you wish’ for ‘I’m fine’ and ‘very well’ for not.”

“Alright, that sounds good enough,” Adrian conceded.

“Will you stop worrying about me and start worrying about getting us back safely, now?” Trevor folded his arms in front of his chest.

“First, I need to finish this jacket.”


	16. Other Castles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian and Trevor depart for their audience with Lady Elizabeth Bathory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was a bit of a bear to write, and I really wanted to get it right. The result is a long wait for a longer-than-average chapter- I hope you all enjoy!

The task of making Trevor presentable required both Sypha and Adrian’s efforts. 

Adrian brushed his hair- which now nearly brushed his shoulders, and pulled it back into a ponytail. It was uneven in the front and those bits stubbornly refused to be contained by a ribbon, so he eventually resorted to a sweet-smelling oil that Trevor turned his nose up at, but was effective at slicking those rebellious hair into place. 

Sypha picked the dirt out from his hails with a small knife, and trimmed his beard as much as he would let her. 

He insisted on dressing himself. Socks, underclothes, leather pants, linen shirt, cloth bracers, vest, jacket- Adrian even gave him a heavy golden ring with Dracula’s crest on it- for the “air of legitimacy,” he explained. 

Briefly, just the two of them stood in Trevor’s room- Sypha having excused herself to have a quick meal before final preparations for their departure. 

Adrian chose his words carefully as he smoothed down Trevor’s lapel. “These are not orders, but… suggestions. When we are in there, you should follow slightly behind me, you should not speak unless spoken to, and you should accept anything you are given, no matter how distasteful.”

“I have my own rule.”

“Mm, what is it?”

“I’m bringing the Morningstar whip.”

Adrian winced. “Going in armed may send the wrong message.”

“I don't care what message it sends- it's not like it will matter if this is all a trap. I’m not going in unless I can fight my way out- if need be.”

Adrian sighed. “Fine- as long as it's plan B. Don't let a weapon make you cocky.” 

“I fought off a demon with another demon’s arm- I don't need a weapon to be ‘cocky’” Trevor’s eyes glimmered “But, we’re going to be very outnumbered, so a severed limb may not cut it. Anyway, I can keep the whip hidden somewhere in these ridiculous clothes.”

“Don't let it touch you.”

“I know, I know- I'll grab my gloves.”

* * *

 

Passing through the distance mirror was an odd sensation, to say the least. The surface felt like perfectly room-temperature water, and as Trevor stepped through, there was just enough subtle differences- humidity, air pressure- to tell that they’d traveled a great distance in that one step forward.

The room they stepped into was the same one they’d seen through the mirror- a richly furnished bedchamber. This time, though, the young woman was absent. In her place a tall man greeted them.

He was a vampire, no doubt. His long medium-brown hair cascaded gracefully from his shoulders, and as he rose from a deep bow, a flash of silver eyes met Adrian's.

“Welcome, Lord Tepes,” he said, “Lady Bathory is engaged for the time being. I have been assigned to show you to your chambers and assist you with anything you might need.” He smiled again, and Trevor could feel his hackles raise. This man was stunningly beautiful, but wholly unnatural in the way that vampires are. He couldn't help but distrust him. 

Without even sparing Trevor a glance, the man once again addressed Adrian. “How may I address your fledgeling?”

“This is Trevor Belmont. You may call him Belmont.”

The man’s eyes grew wide with recognition, and his mouth moved as if to speak but no sound left his lips. 

“How may I address you, then?” Adrian asked. 

The man regained his composure and turned to the door. “I am Michael. Follow me, if you would.”

Trevor and Adrian exchanged a glance as Michael turned his back. They followed him into a long, torch-lit hallway. A handful of vampires and lesser demons spied them curiously as they made their way. They were all dressed extravagantly, horns and wrists adorned with gold bands, and a few of the ladies whispered behind fans. 

They walked in silence. Trevor rather felt like a condemned inmate being led to the stocks, but what greeted them when Michael finally stopped at a door was not a hangman’s noose, but a room very much like the one they had come from. It has a single four-poster bed, a washtable, a chair, and not a single window. 

“I will be back to collect you when Lady Bathory is ready,” he said, and with a bow, he was gone, and the door closed behind him. 

“I never really thought about it before- the windows, I mean.” Trevor paced the perimeter of the room like a caged cat, “of course a vampire’s lair would be window-less- but the castle’s not. You've even got fancy stained glass- and the light doesn't burn me.”

Adrian sat on the edge of the bed. “You're correct- yet another way that the castle is an anomaly. It's magic of some sort, I'm sure. I never bothered to learn more, sunlight has always been something I've taken for granted.”

“Mm.” Trevor landed on the bed next to Adrian, draped dramatically over the side.

“Holding up so far?” Adrian asked. 

“Yeah, I'm fine. Don't like being spoken about like a thing, and I don't like being cooped up in this room with god knows how many vampires outside, but I'm ‘holding up.’”

Adrian hummed in acknowledgement, eyes still fixed on the wall in front of him. 

“How are  _ you  _ holding up?”

Adrian sighed, “I'm not sure. I was well-shielded from court life. This is as alien to me as it is to you.”

Trevor cocked an eyebrow. “Is that so,  _ Lord Tepes _ ?” He drawled 

Adrian dragged an exasperated hand down his face, but despite himself, he laughed. “Ah- now you've got me a more cutting moniker than,  _ ‘vampire’ _ I see.”

“Mm.  _ ‘Vampire’s  _ a bit hypocritical, as of late.”

Adrian reached out a hand to touch Trevor’s face, and he let him. 

“This will be over soon, and we can focus on training again. Sypha has been working really hard on finding a way for you to day-walk, and we seem to have your appetite managed…”

“Mm. Mostly. I'm a little hungry now.”

“That's probably for the best. You may need a degree of hunger to stomach an evening with Bathory.”

Trevor looked away, awkwardly, the mood soured. 

As they sat in silence, it became increasingly obvious that they were not nearly as alone as they may have thought- whispering began to fill Trevor’s ears- soft enough that he could barely make out the words over the crackle of the torches. 

_ Dracula’s son? The Dracula? _

_ Yes! Lord Dracula… _

_ I heard he has a Belmont with him. _

_ What? _

_...said he had a fledgeling with him, and his name is Belmont.  _

_ Can't be the same… _

_ Does Lady Bathory know? _

“Ugh.” Trevor pressed his hands over his ears. “Vampire hearing is a curse.”

Adrian shot him a sympathetic glance, but didn't have time to reply before a knock at the door startled them both. Damn vampire stealth. 

The door creaked open.

“Lord Tepes?” A familiar voice asked. It was Michael. 

Adrian sat up straight. “Yes?”

“Lady Bathory is ready to see you.”

* * *

 

Each step towards the grand chamber added to the tight clench of apprehension in Trevor's gut. More and more demons, vampires, and freaks lined the walls to ogle at them as they neared. Their whispers swirled together into an unintelligible cacophony that he desperately wished to shut out. 

Micheal stopped at a finely carved set of double doors. He held open the right side, and dramatically gestures the pair inside. 

The grand chamber was much like the one found in the castle- a wide open room, well lit with torches, with stairs leading to a throne-topped platform. 

Lady Bathroy did not sit so much as drape herself over the gilded seat, surrounded by two armored guards at her side, and a harem of pretty girls, dressed in pure white gowns, at her feet. 

Adrian approached the bottom of the stairs, where a deep red carpet ended, and Trevor followed two paces behind, as he has been advised, eyes averted, but ears and other senses keen and tense. 

“It's good to finally hear from you, Lord Tepes.” She rested her chin in her hand, as if bored, but her eyes were sharp and her lips thin. “When I heard of your father’s defeat I was unsure if you would be capable of assuming the throne- you were barely to my knee the last time I saw you-, but it seems that you have grown into a strong man, if you have been able to keep all of Lord Dracula’s fledgelings and Generals at bay.”

“Thank you.” Adrian bowed his head once again. “That is exactly what I wished to discuss-”

“Even if you are a bastard.” 

Adrian was very still. Trevor could just barely see the way Adrian’s fists clenched and his lip twitched

A rage started to build in Trevor’s core. He knew this was a bad idea. Why bother with all the pomp and circumstance just for a fight? Fucking vampires. He took a step closer to Adrian, closer to the smirking Elizabeth, and reached into his jacket where his weapon coiled. 

“I’m right, aren't I?” Elizabeth asked. 

Adrian cleared his throat and unclenched his hands. “It is true that my parents were not married in the eyes of _the_ _Church_ , but they were faithful- loving- much more than can be said for most ‘proper’ marriages.”

“Oh, but, no self-respecting vampire could love a human, or  _ wikeh wersa _ , and no vampires would recognize such a union- thus you are indeed a bastard.” The countess leaned forward, her eyes were unbelievably sharp and cruel. “If he truly loved her, he would have turned her. Humans are only good for food or… entertainment.”

Trevor felt the rage inside him that had been building with every word spill over. Logic left him as his vision blurred red- fuck this. He charged towards the throne with a roar. 

Adrian tried to reach out and grab him, but found himself cemented to the spot. Trevor had closed half the distance between himself and the countess before Adrian found his voice. 

“Trevor, stop!”

Just like that, Trevor was like a puppet with cut strings- his run stopped but his movement didn't. The Morningstar whip clattered to the floor as it left his hand, and he almost followed as he slumped forward, pushed by inertia alone. 

A bubbling laugh drew Adrian’s horrified gaze up from Trevor towards the countess. It was only then that Trevor realized that the two armored guards that flanked Elizabeth hadn't moved an inch. 

“My my, he’s much more than a well-trained dog, isn't he?” She smiled, addressing Adrian. She sat up in her chair “I was expecting you to be dragging in your little Belmont pet on a leash, half mad from glamour, but he is truly loyal to you, not merely bound. Very interesting.” She clacked her nails on the wooden armrest rhythmically. “What could you have done to earn the loyalty of a Belmont, exactly?”

Trevor’s blood ran cold. He still couldn't move, couldn't even look behind him towards Adrian. This was bad. This was very bad. She knew- she knew they killed Dracula and she was going to kill them, and no matter how much he strained he couldn't will his hand to pick up the Morningstar whip. 

“I nearly killed him,” Adrian’s voice from behind him answered, “and I made him mine. I also have his little sorceress girlfriend back in my castle, as an extra guarantee- I think he may have been defending her honor more than my own.”

Trevor's temper flared once again. He knew Adrian was saving their lives, but being talked about as if he wasn't literally standing between the two of him was humiliating, all while he still couldn't move. 

Elizabeth seemed satisfied, though, and she rose from her throne. “You can't let them have pets for too long, you’ll spoil him.”

Adrian nodded stiffly. 

“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable, hm? I've had my fun. I can't let you keep that whip, I'm sure you understand- I'll have Michael place it in the armory and you can collect it before you depart.”

“I’ll follow your lead,” Adrian said and bowed slightly, “and I warn you,” he added, “the whip is extremely… effective. I wouldn't advise touching it.” He walked forward and placed a hand on Trevor’s shoulder. “Come along,” he said. 

“As you wish,” Trevor said through gritted teeth.

They walked in silence, Trevor one pace behind Adrian. He wanted to sneak a glance up to Adrian’s face, to possibly read what he may be thinking, but vampire guards lined the halls, and they had to play their parts. Trevor kept his eyes fixed on the ground. 

He smelled their destination far before they reached it. Blood- lots of it, and not just from a single person. At least a dozen distinct smells swirled around them. Trevor felt light headed. One foot in front of the other. Left. Right. Left. Right. Until they stopped and he nearly barreled into Adrian's back. 

One of the white-clad women opened a door and the two of them followed Lady Bathory into the room, that was most definitely the source of the smell. 

Plush benches lined the walls, circling tables laid heavy with platters of fruit. Several well-dressed vampires were already lounging inside, each surrounded by at least three young people- humans- just barely in their twenties-, and several of them already bleeding. A bitten neck here, a ripped wrist there, blood seeping into their universally-white clothes. They flocked around the vampires, giggling and chatting. 

As they entered on Lady Bathory’s heels, the vampires already inside stood and bowed deeply to her. She nodded, and they sat back down, resuming their flirting with the human… human what? Servants? Slaves? They seemed too happy to be here against their will, but their tired smile and deep circled-eyes made Trevor’s already-twisted gut churn more. 

He couldn't pretend the smell wasn't having an effect on him, though. He must have looked as stunned as he felt, as Adrian guided him to a seat. 

He could hear Adrian and the vampire countess bitch talking beside him, but their words were drowned out by the cacophony of heartbeats around him. Fuck. This was too much. 

He must have accidentally made eye contact with one of the… courtesans, because a white skirt filling his vision broke him of his trance. 

“Hungry?” Lady Bathroy asked him. 

“Uh,” was his articulate reply.

“Go ahead- but be careful not to take too much.” 

Trevor looked from the woman in front of him- a thin, pretty blonde, with freckles and green eyes- to Lady Bathory, and then to Adrian, who nodded. Right- he was supposed to accept any gifts he was offered. 

He looked back to the woman in front of him. Her green eyes were beautiful, but they lacked luster, and the dark circles under them suggested she hadn't slept in a number of days. He wanted to reach out to her- to ask why she was in such a place as this, why she approached a strange man- a strange vampire- such as himself. 

He couldn't voice those questions. Any empathy towards a human would make him suspect, so all he could do as she approached was take her out stretched wrist and sink in his fangs and hope that somehow she would know that he too was a prisoner, playing a part. 

Her blood was sweet but her pulse was weak. As uncomfortable as he was, it still was a struggle to not pull greedy mouthfuls from her. As he swallowed, for a time, the world around him, with all its complexities and complications fell away, and all there was was the blood on his tongue and the pulse in his ears. 

He pulled away soon enough, and licked the trickle that spilled down the side of her wrist away. He hoped that she understood. 

He must have looked appropriately tortured, because he heard Bathroy’s unmistakable giggle bubble up from the other side of Adrian. 

“Oh, our poor hunter, so tormented by what he’s become!” She sang. 

Trevor scowled. If that was the part she wanted him to play, fine. It was easy enough to keep his mouth shut.

She turned back to Adrian and jumped back into their conversation. Trevor was lost- there were many names he had never heard, words in a language he didn't speak, and military stratagems that he didn't understand. He gave up trying to parse and instead scanned the room. 

He watched a vampire with silver hair lap at the neck of a golden-haired young man, who was straddling his lap. The sight was unmistakably erotic, but rather than being turned on, Trevor felt annoyance bubble up at the fact that he himself was still hungry. 

He could normally go for days without blood, but in this environment he felt he’d never be fully quenched- and these vampires lived like this all the time, voluntarily. It was repulsive. 

His attention shifted back to the two beside him when he heard his name.

“Is Belmont your first fledgling?”

“He is. I am only twenty six years old, after all.” Adrian casually picked at a bunch of grapes in front of him.

“I must commend your choice. His family name makes him alluring, and he must be rather fun to play with.”

“Mm. He is. And as you saw, he’s rather good protection.”

Bathroy sat her glass down on the table. “That is what you wished to discuss, isn't it? The paucity of your protection.”

Adrian nodded. “It is indeed. As you know, Carmilla’s forces wiped out the entirety of my father’s, and I am now being threatened by her again. She has her eyes on the castle, and I doubt her ambition will be hampered by such things as long-established borders if she were to take it.”

“You wish for me to take up arms against her, then?”

“I believe that ultimately, that would be in your best interests. She is gathering forces, but she's currently distracted, her eye is squarely on me. You're in her blindspot. She’s young, and her forces are younger. A small platoon of your highly trained fighters could cripple her enough to make her reconsider venturing outside of Styira.”

Bathory picked up and swirled her glass a few times. “I believe you may be right, and I know that such an attack would be a great aid to you. I owed a great debt to your father, and I would like it settled.”

Adrian bowed his head. “He had the greatest respect for you, and with this I do too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for my weird phonetic spelling of Latin- I may have over thought it but I wanted to make it clear which pronunciation Bathory was using.


End file.
